


The Favored Ones

by Scribbleness



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28572036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribbleness/pseuds/Scribbleness
Summary: Only five children survived Sephiroth's attack in Nibelheim, a miracle they owed to the gods of Gaia. But then their lives must be quickly paid with a task to defeat Sephiroth after an Ancient made a bargain to ensure that they would live. Each of them was blessed with a power and Tifa Lockhart was bestowed with the water element by Leviathan's favor. She soon realized the burden of it when Rufus, son of the magnate who took her in, had Ramuh's favor and the lightning spell. Their growing affections were proving more difficult each time when a single touch from one of them was impossible without hurting the other. (AU)
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart/Rufus Shinra
Comments: 26
Kudos: 33





	1. The Bargain

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Anything that is not mine, is not mine. The games, the characters, they are not mine. The concept of the story is mine, but the elements added that were not originally mine, are definitely not mine. I hope that's enough disclaimer!
> 
> Author's Note: This RufTi fic started when a friend of mine calytrix commented that Rufus is "electrifying." I ran this through with my friend and beta-reader AngelWingsNaya who further encouraged me to pursue the story. So the concept of the story is what if Rufus and Tifa can't touch each other without hurting the other? 
> 
> The first chapter might not be as exciting, but I assure you that my outline promises more things. I can see angst and drama in the next chapters, and so much more Rufti than in my other fic! As usual, I hope you will enjoy this one!
> 
> Edit: I received some helpful comments from Calytrix for technicalities, and I am grateful for them!

With every second that passed, their tomorrow grew bleaker. 

Fifteen children. Aerith sobbed louder at the number. Fifteen laid motionless on the leaden floor as the flames slowly died along the wooden walls of the school. Charcoaled cinders covered the ground, soot smeared the pale skin of the children black, the air heavy with sable smoke that swelled in the room.

Aerith prayed harder, her fingers clasping tighter together, and her brows creasing tensely in the middle as she lowered her head. The layer of the shell barrier she summoned rippled with each word she chanted, cascading through what strength she could manage to protect herself and the four others who did survive.

They laid sleeping under the confines of her spell, untouched by the destruction and unaware of what had struck them so suddenly earlier that day. They were too young, too small, and too faultless to understand who Sephiroth was and why he burned their village. She was old enough to know, however, but still too young to help everyone, her magic too weak to cast a wider shield or stave off their aggressor. Instead, she kept praying, finding her strength to keep going in every little bit of goodness she saw before Sephiroth arrived.

Their school’s biggest benefactor, the magnate President Shinra, was there earlier that day to launch an advanced learning program and brought with him countless computers and equipment to improve their facilities. It was a big event and the school prepared restlessly for his welcome. Sixth graders such as herself were to usher the President and his companions around the school. To procure more aid, she tapped her good friend Zack, a cheerful boy from another class, and asked his help to scout for more student volunteers who could help work around and assist at the event. A beautiful fourth grader named Tifa was among them and so was a shy boy named Cloud.

Aerith took a deep, shaky breath and opened her heavy eyes to look at the two. Cloud’s arms were wrapped protectively around Tifa who was curled up against his chest. What a brave, brave boy, she thought. Laying beside them was Zack, his arms spread open on the ground, a testimony of how he tried to protect the fourth survivor— President Shinra’s son, Rufus.

The Senior Shinra brought him to the event as a gesture to show his strong involvement in the program. As he had said in his speech, “I wish to provide the students of Nibelheim Institute a better future as I have envisioned for my own son. Education has always been a strong advocacy of mine that I would like to impart with you. With the nurture of your teachers, heavyweight curriculum, and state-of-the-art tools for learning, you will grow to be the best of yourselves with my Rufus.”

The boy was quiet, but not in the same way as the timid Cloud was. Rufus spent most of his time keenly observing everyone in the room, greeting people curtly if he needed to, and gave everyone firm handshakes. Everything he did showed an apparent indication of his strict upbringing, no doubt to prepare him for the same life his father led. Even Zack noticed it, tapping her shoulder and nodding at the boy who came in an attire nearly as formal as his father’s. He was going to be bigger than the President, Zack had told her, though it was meant more to jibe at his own scrutiny. Aerith did not argue. She knew just by looking at him that he was going to be more. Nevertheless, still not more important than the rest of the children. It was in her principle to treat everyone equally.

So when Sephiroth arrived so suddenly, setting the whole of Nibelheim ablaze in his vile and uncontrollable rampage, Aerith knelt and began to pray, her silent resort to save every single soul she could.

But only five of them survived.

Her breaths were growing shallower, her eyes drier, and her sweat still relentless and mixing with the grime sticking on her face. To keep the shield up for herself and the other four for two straight hours was starting to take a toll on her, but she clasped her hands together more tightly. Lives were counting on her prayer. On her.

Help would be on the way, she was certain. If not from the parents of the children, surely President Shinra would not allow his son to burn and rot. The wonder had crossed her mind as to why he spared himself before saving his son. Maybe it was because he needed to help himself first in order to help Rufus. Maybe he called for more people to aid him and the survivors. Maybe they were already on their way.

Maybe they would be saved if she could just hold on for a little longer. But she couldn’t.

“Spare us,” Aerith whispered. “Please. Spare us.”

She chanted to those words over and over like a faithful litany. To spare every one of them. A plea by a long shot. A miracle.

And she was heard.

The first sign came in a faint light. She slowly opened her weak eyes and carefully looked heavenward with a narrowed gaze. 

“Can you hear me?” she asked. Begged.

There were no words that came forth, none that a normal person could hear. The reply came to her in a quiet revelation, one that could be done through a connection between a god and an Ancient. And Ancient blood ran through her veins, a gift she inherited from her mother. So she understood.

 _You will be spared_ , the light had told her, and she bowed her head in thanks. _There was no need for gratefulness_ , it said, _for it was all to reward your resilience to protect the children for as long as you could. The gods of the lifestream had meant to claim them, but blessed them a second chance instead_. _All of you will live a free life, but bound by a duty to the gods and Gaia._

Had she understood that right? Duty? For their lives? Hesitation crossed her heart. To oblige their lives to the gods was not freedom at all. They were too young, too little to understand, too innocent to be burdened by such responsibility. Take me, she tried to bargain. But set the others free.

 _But the duty could not be carried by you alone_ , the being told her. _It would need all of them, the surviving children of Nibelheim, to do it. To defeat Sephiroth._

How are we gonna do it? she asked. We’re just kids.

Y _ou will be blessed with the powers of the gods_ , she was told. _You will be given powers just as Ifrit had to Sephiroth. You will breathe with the powers in their most potent forms of elemental magic, and the gods will live with you like your second shadows_.

Aerith took a deep breath and closed her eyes tightly once more. A second chance at life was all she wanted for everyone, and to make a choice like this was beyond her. What would they say? she thought. Would they agree to it? To defeat Sephiroth? Would they be willing to give up the rest of their lives in servitude to the gods’ plans? Did they have a choice?

No. They didn’t.

She opened her eyes. “Okay,” she said. “Okay.”

* * *

.  
.  
.

  
First, she heard a voice. It was small, gentle, careful with each murmured word. She couldn’t discern any of it. It was whispering but persistent, beckoning at her. She wanted to answer, but she was too tired. Floating midair wherever she was felt better and more comforting. She wanted to rest more and wake up later.

“Tifa.”

She felt herself twitch at the sound of her name. Then she realized it was the only thing she felt. She winced, testing herself and her control over her own body. It suddenly dawned to her that she needed to wake up and that the dream had been a trap. But it wasn’t a trap, another side of her said. She had always known that she could wake up from it. She was too tired, but she needed to open her eyes.

She winced once more and it felt stronger this time. She poured in all the strength she could muster into her eyes and opened them, gasping as she did. Because as far as her body knew, it was the first time she could breathe again.

Her vision was blurry and she had almost thought she was still stuck in the dream. She shut her eyes and opened them again, realizing that nothing had changed. The room was dim, the air was cool, and the surface beneath her was soft. She tried to groan in reply but her throat was rough and dry. 

“Tifa?”

Her eyes were heavy and her head still ached, so she turned very slowly to the voice. She made out yellow hair spiked in all directions, pale skin, and bright blue eyes. The figure shuffled to lean in closer and she blinked a few more times to adjust her sight.

“Cloud,” she whispered.

“Tifa! You okay? Here.” Cloud reached behind her back and helped her sit up, slowly and carefully. He then took a glass of water from the bedside table and handed it to her.

Tifa coughed and winced after taking a gulp. “Too cold.”

Cloud lowered his head. “Oh. Right.”

“But thanks,” she added before glancing around the room- white walls, blinded windows, and liquid bags mounted on metal rods attached to their arms with tubes. A hospital, she thought. And the last time she had been in one was when her mother fell very ill. She bit her lip.

“Are we hurt?” she asked Cloud.

“Well, we were, I guess,” Cloud replied. 

Tifa met his eyes. “Do you remember anything?”

“I remember being at school with you.”

Tifa nodded. “Me too. But, after that…”

Cloud shook his head. “No. Not really.”

She slowly pulled her blanket up to her shoulders and looked around again, particularly eyeing the air conditioner on the ceiling. “Kinda cold in here.”

“It’s as high as it goes,” Cloud said, turning to the control panel on the wall. 

“Maybe it’s broken?”

Cloud looked at his hand. “Maybe.”

Tifa sighed, releasing a white puff through her lips. “Do our parents know we’re here?”

“I don’t know.” Cloud clenched his fist and lifted his eyes to Tifa. “I haven’t heard from my mom, either.”

“Maybe they’re outside, waiting for us to wake up.”

“I don’t know, but I can go check. Do you want me to check?”

Tifa nodded, so Cloud stood and headed to the door. Almost immediately, she felt the temperature rise and warm humid air filled her lungs. She pushed the blanket away from her and raised her eyes to the air conditioner.

“No one’s there,” Cloud said as he walked back to her side. It was suddenly cold again.

Tifa’s eyes widened at Cloud and her eyebrows squished together, dazed at the oddity of the inconsistent air. 

Cloud’s face turned concerned and was about to say something until Tifa pulled the blanket up to herself again. She darted her eyes to the ceiling and espied the white frosty puff surrounding the vent, battling against the air coming out of it and whirling against the walls. Strange, she thought. They had tackled hot and cold temperatures in their Science class where she learned that cold air was heavy and always “dropping.” Cold air never rose. Her sight followed the frost and realized it was coming from Cloud. 

“Are you… doing this?” Tifa asked.

Realization filled Cloud’s eyes and he dropped his head. “I…”

Tifa shifted on her bed, pulling the blanket more tightly around her and leaned closer to Cloud. She carefully lifted a hand, slowly reached for him and felt it, the frost, just when her fingertip barely brushed the skin of his arm. She gasped and quickly recoiled her hand.

“Cloud…”

“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” Cloud said hurriedly in a defensive tone. He had known, she could tell. He was the reason the air was cold and so was the water he gave her. 

Tifa gasped and bit her dry lip when the air grew even more frigid. “C-Cloud… please…” she stammered, her jaws quivering from the sudden chill. “Make it… stop.”

Cloud looked at his hands and glanced around the room in a panicked haze. “I’m not— I can’t—”

Tifa was breathing heavily, the flurry of disorientation made her jump on her knees and reach for the nurse call button.

“Tifa!”

She whirled her head to him over her shoulder and rounded her eyes at the barrier of water hovering between her and Cloud, nearly concealing her friend by the thick screen. It was haltingly hardening into a glacial wall as the water pushed through the icy draft with every drop calmly steadying in the small tide. Tifa lifted her hand to touch the wall, if not to reach for Cloud and see if she could, and realized that more water was gently gushing out of her palms and fingers, flowing unto the wall.

“What’s… happening?”

Her head began to spin, her guts dropped, and her chest fought harder for air. 

“TIFA!”

And then, darkness.

* * *

The next thing she learned when she woke up from a long sleep was that they were orphans. 

A social worker came to visit them at the hospital and broke the news. Difficult was a restraining way to describe what they felt. Agonizing was a closer word, but still not accurate enough to the dread and grief that came over them. Nothing could truly describe their despair when they learned that no family would come back for them. 

Tifa did not know what to think other than she should have died in the fire with everyone else. But maybe her father protected her and her classmates at school. He did his best, she imagined, the strong and brave man that he was. She envisioned him standing bravely before Sephiroth and wrestled him to the end so she would be safe. He fought very hard and saved Cloud, too. Or maybe his mother battled Sephiroth as well. Maybe all their parents did. She cried harder.

“Tifa,” Cloud called beside her. She felt his cool hand on her back. “You’re… the water.”

She gasped and scooted away from Cloud, surveying the water that oozed out of her, wetting her hospital gown and spilling to the chair and the floor. 

“I’m…“ she sobbed. Panic flickered in her eyes when she shot the social worker an apologetic look. “Oh no. Sorry.”

The man studied the stream dripping to the ground with an unreadable expression. “When did this start to happen?”

“When we woke up yesterday,” Cloud answered for them.

“Here?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm.” The man regarded Cloud next. “And you?”

“Huh?”

“Are you alright?”

Cloud lowered his head. “No.”

There was a long pause before the man prodded in anticipation. “And?”

“Mine is…” Cloud murmured and hesitantly lifted his hand where he was emitting white thick whiffs from his fingertips. “I think mine is…”

“Blizzard,” the man concluded for him. 

Cloud shifted to the man. “Yeah. Blizzard.”

The man sighed before standing. “Has anyone else been here?”

“Anyone else?”

“Yes. Someone else who came to fetch you. Maybe a man with a white robe, long hair, and dark glasses?”

Cloud shook his head. “No. No one came for us.”

The man nodded and hummed. “Good. Pack your things. You’re coming with me.”

Tifa and Cloud snapped their eyes up to the man. 

“To where?” Cloud asked.

“An orphanage.” The man glanced to the length of the corridor before turning back at the two. “A safer place. Anywhere but here.”

“Safer place?”

He got down on one knee in front of them and began whispering. “Listen closely, both of you. This thing that you have will have people come after you. Dangerous people. Nobody can cast off magic like that without a materia. You know what a materia is?”

Tifa and Cloud shook their heads.

“It’s a shiny green ball that SOLDIERS and fighters use in battle to cast magic, become stronger, and summon help. You two can cast magic without a materia and that’s different because it has never happened before. Bad people will want to study that and do things to you— horrible things. Because they will want to understand how it happens. Do you get it?”

Tifa and Cloud nodded.

“Good. Now pack your things. Make it quick. We’re getting out of here.”

Tifa and Cloud looked at each other before the latter jumped on his feet, held his hand out to Tifa, and helped her up.

Tifa sniffled, wiped her nose with the back of her hand, and nodded at the man. “Thank you, Mister Valentine.”

“Vincent,” the man said. “Call me Vincent.”

* * *

Vincent drove them from the hospital that same afternoon to make their long travel to a place called Mideel.

“How long is it gonna be?” Cloud asked.

“Three hours, at least,” Vincent replied. Three long hours of not knowing when the water was going to flow out again from her. Tifa took Cloud’s hand and held it tightly, anchoring herself to him so that she would not lose control of her apparent magic. Cloud gripped back and gave her a gentle squeeze.

Vincent was a quiet man, so they spent the hours in silence and sleeping. They woke up when they felt the car stop and Tifa felt her heart jump for a second in fear that he might have changed his mind and hand them over to the bad guys. 

“I’ll get us food. Lock the doors and don’t let anyone in who isn't me,” Vincent told them before hastily stepping out of the car. Cloud reached over to the front to press the lock button before returning to his seat beside Tifa.

“You okay?” he asked her.

Tifa nodded. “You?”

“Yeah.” He looked through his side of the window to watch Vincent enter the eatery. “What do you think of him?”

“Mister Vincent?”

“Yeah.”

“He seems like a good guy.”

Cloud darted back to Tifa. “I think so too.”

Tifa nodded slowly. Vincent looked intimidating to her, but that was because he looked so serious all the time. It did not help that his voice was very low, his eyes almost bright red, and his skin pasty against his dark hair. He reminded her of a vampire at first, until he made it clear that he came to make sure they were taken care of. The extent of that statement was yet to be proven because he still was a stranger to them. She thought of her parents. They had a better sense of judgement, always had. They would know. They could tell her if he was a good man or not.

She took Cloud’s hand again when she felt her heart pulling her down. They were parentless, alone, and lost, all in one day.

“Are they really gone?” she whispered.

Cloud’s eyebrows creased, a frown to repress his own way of grief. She realized he didn’t cry when Vincent broke the news about their parents. Not even when he told them that most of the children did not survive while she began to wonder if the two nice sixth graders did. And if the President and his son did, too. He remained quiet, readable only through his eyes. And he seemed to be angry most of the time.

Vincent knocked on his side of the car ten minutes later, prompting Tifa to unlock the door for him. He handed each of them a paper bag and a large cup of beverage before he unwrapped his own. They stayed there, eating their meal wordlessly and left for the road when they were done.

They reached the orphanage just as the skies were daubed with the premature pink of dusk and the moon was starting to peek behind the clouds. The shelter, a word that would perfectly describe the orphanage, was walled with clay bricks, patches of wood, and unpainted black tiles for a roof. The grounds were kindled with soft yellow lights from the posts and windows, shedding gentle shadows from the thick leaves of the trees. The ground was bare with soil, if not for the dry leaves penned together here and there. Tifa found the place lonely and isolated and far from people and everything else. She supposed it was part of Vincent’s plan to keep them as safe as possible.

A woman who seemed older than Vincent approached from the wooden door with open arms. Her hair was long and dark, her face kind, and her clothes too rural even for a countrygirl like herself— long loose purple dress with a white shirt underneath and gray rags for loafers. Vincent looked even more salient when he stood next to her in his black suit, tie, and perfectly polished black shoes.

“Matron,” Vincent acknowledged her gently.

Matron’s smile grew wider when she eyed Tifa and Cloud. “Hello!”

“Hello,” Tifa murmured back.

“You must be the beautiful Tifa.”

Tifa shifted uneasily on her feet.

Matron’s eyes moved to Cloud. “And you must be the brave Cloud.”

Cloud rubbed his hands to his sides. “Just Cloud, Ma’am.”

“Call me Matron,” she said. “Ma’am is reserved for women who are entitled to others’ servitude. In my opinion, anyway. It works the other way around in my watch because I am here to take very good care of you. Call me your second mother, I would appreciate that more. And I will be just that until a kind family takes you in.”

Cloud gave her a stiff nod. “Oh. Thank you.”

“Long drive?”

Tifa nodded.

Matron chuckled softly. “I understand what that means, dear. I have a hot meal inside, prepared just for you. It would be lovely for you two to join the other children for dinner. You may go straight to bed after, you look tired. But, take your time.”

Tifa glanced uneasily between Matron and Vincent. The latter gave her an encouraging nod.

“Matron is a good woman. She will take good care of you from here,” he said.

“Children are usually cautious, Vincent,” Matron said. “Especially when they are placed in an unfamiliar situation. We have to regard this gently, though I trust that the both of them will adjust nicely in their new home.”

Vincent sighed. “The change is too sudden for them.”

“Perhaps you may choose to stay here with them for a while.”

Vincent narrowed his eyes at Matron.

“You are the most familiar figure to them at the moment,” Matron reasoned. “Maybe they will welcome the changes better if they know you are around for them.”

Tifa and Cloud eyed Vincent in anticipation for his answer. To have him there with them for a while longer was a welcoming idea indeed, but then Vincent shook his head.

“No, I can’t,” he said. “If I stay here, I might as well hand them over to Hojo.”

Matron nodded. “I see.”

“Who’s Hojo?” Cloud asked.

Vincent looked down at Cloud. “Remember the bad guy I told you about? That’s Hojo.”

“I understand that you are also entrusting me to keep them safe from him?”

Vincent nodded. “Yes. Please.”

“In that case, I must ask you to leave right away.”

Vincent nodded. “I agree.”

Tifa reached for Vincent’s hand and tugged it. She did not say anything until Vincent shifted his gaze to her.

“You’ll come back for us?” she implored.

Vincent blinked and dipped his chin to his chest. “I’ll try,” he said. “I’ll check on you once in a while.”

“That you may do,” Matron agreed.

“I’ll also look for good families who can take you in,” Vincent added. “For the both of you.”

“Will we still be together?” Cloud asked.

Vincent paused then flicked his eyes away. Matron sighed and smiled softly.

“We will see,” Matron answered before urging them to walk inside the shelter. Once they were gone, she turned back to Vincent. “They can’t be together, can they?”

Vincent crossed his arms against his chest. “If they remain together, the faster he will catch them.”

“So you separate them?”

“Yes. It’s the only choice we have.”

“It won’t be ideal.”

“I know.” Vincent took a deep breath. “I have a family in mind for the boy. The couple is currently living in Rocket Town, but I will advise them to move to Icicle Inn to help hide the boy in the eternal winter. I’m sure they’ll agree to it.”

“And the girl?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

Matron gave out a low hum and placed a hand on her hip. She regarded the house for a moment before turning back to Vincent. “I trust that I can leave it to you, then?”

“Yes. And trust no one else.”

* * *

Tifa and Cloud kept mostly to themselves.

It was not because of the kids, the Matron, or anything about the orphanage. In fact, if she had to be honest, everything about it had been the most welcoming despite the run-down rooms, the creaking beds that sometimes roused her at night, and the shower rooms that were in dire need of new pipes and tiles. Tifa spent a bulk of her time each day in the library where Matron collected so many books that came from generous donors. They were mostly textbooks for learning, but she spotted some interesting fictions in between that she took the liberty of indulging herself in. Cloud would sit with her if he was not joining the other kids in the playground, which was forced upon him more often than he would admit to count. Tifa would watch him play at those times, her silent support to keep his blizzard powers in check for as long as he was in a mood for fun. But the sight always reminded her too greatly of their life in Nibelheim before it burned down, so she retreated to her books. And for the most part, reading had helped keep her powers at rest.

But in those little moments when she was not tied to a book or when there were no children around to distract her, Tifa’s mind wandered to that fateful day. It would happen at night, most of the time, just when she was about to sleep. Because she would miss her own bed.

One particular night, she found herself tossing and turning restlessly on her own bed for what felt like hours. She kept her eyes closed to force herself to sleep, too afraid to open them and see the light of dawn through the window. She was tired and not too keen on learning that the night, of all things, had kept her. What she wanted was to be ready for the next day, refreshed and ready to start again. It was a daily battle she was persistent in winning.

But the memories of her parents and her old life had snaked into her mind again, taunting her of what she had lost. Everything, she thought, even the life of a normal girl was lost. The power she had, the curse of the water magic, had stacked on to the problems she had to deal with every waking day. The thought was a jab at her exhausted heart and mind, reminding her over and over that this was what had become of her life.

She felt the water wetting her fingertips again.

Tifa stood, not wanting to soak the bed and sheets she planned to return to. She tip-toed her way out of the room, her steps featherlike as she continued to sneak through the front door.

It was still nighttime, the skies in its darkest she had ever seen. There were small illuminating dots of the stars, their peppered scarcely amidst the thick clouds. She could not see the moon from where she was standing, but she thought it was for the best. To see it might arouse more things from heart, provoking the water spell out of her all the more. It was one of the things she noticed about this new trick in her— the more she felt, the more she triggered it.

She sat on the ground and allowed the water to flow from her and to the gritty soil. She sighed, taking in the sweet smell of leaves and grass as the sod under her palms grew damper. Let it all out, she told herself. It will all be gone here.

Her musing was interrupted by the crackling of dry leaves behind her. She turned around too quickly and huffed in relief when she saw Cloud stepping out of the door and eyeing her.

“Cloud,” she breathed. 

Cloud paused on his tracks. “Sorry.”

Tifa shook her head. “No. It’s okay,” she whispered back. “Can’t sleep.”

Cloud nodded slowly before walking towards her again. “Me neither.”

Tifa’s eyes followed him until he walked to her front and sat on a dry spot. She smiled back when he offered her a shy smile.

“Leaking again?” he asked.

Tifa considered herself for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. Leaking.”

Cloud nodded and tilted his head up to the sky.

“Good thing you haven’t lately.”

“What?”

“Leaking.”

Cloud lowered his head back to her. “Sometimes I do.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It just doesn’t show that much.”

“Yeah.” Tifa gestured at her hands. “Unlike mine.”

Cloud curled his lips down. “I get it though, why we leak.”

“I think I kinda do, too.” She threw the heavens a longing look. “Whenever I think about that day, and what Mister Vincent said, and I start becoming so sad and confused that my heart is ready to burst and all I really wanna do is cry, I start to leak."

Cloud eyed her hands where water was still spilling. “So you’re sad. That’s why you can’t sleep.”

Tifa lifted her hand and examined it. No mud came with it, nor soil to meld with the water dancing on the clear skin of her palm. She had expected that, for the water to protect herself from peripheral surfaces. Somehow it was different from the water she drank or cleaned herself with. The water that did not come from her was safe and capable to do the things they should. Magic, she thought, a spell that was supposedly under her control, and she feared that her emotions might be starting to take over. “Yeah. It’s hard not to be.”

Cloud looked around, the cool mist of air fanning around him with each turn of his head. She felt the touch of the blizzard brisk by her face before he settled on her again. “This is a nice place.”

Tifa nodded. “Yeah. Great place to think and let off steam.”

“Or to leak alone.”

Tifa giggled. “Yeah. The lawn needs some watering, anyway.”

“And you need me to cool off.”

Tifa laughed and Cloud smiled widely at his success to conjure a smile from her. When silence befell them, he spoke again.

“I think staying here a little longer isn’t a bad idea.”

“Sounds great to me.”

They did not stay long, not by Matron’s reasonable standards anyway. When they were done watching the sky reveal more stars and found the moon as it finally hovered above them, they decided they were done for the night and Tifa ruled that she had calmed down enough.

* * *

The next time Vincent visited them at the orphanage, the lawn had turned to ice.

He came and called for Cloud straight out from the kitchen during lunchtime. Tifa tried to think nothing of it even when she could feel her stomach spinning with dread and her fingers freezing around her spoon while she tried to listen to the voices outside. She heard Cloud’s yells next which made her jump from her chair and run to the front door where she saw the ground covered in white sleet.

A man and a woman, both seemed just in the same age as Vincent, stood back with widened eyes as they watched Cloud repress himself from crying— fists clenched on his sides and whimpering with his head down in an attempt to stifle his tears.

“Step back,” Vincent barked at her when she opened the door to run for Cloud. 

“I’m not leaving!” Cloud cried.

“Cloud, dear, you need to,” Matron spurred. “Mister and Missus Highwind will keep you saf—”

“I’m not leaving without Tifa!”

Tifa gasped and pushed herself past Vincent, ran to Cloud and threw herself to him in a tight embrace. “No! No!”

Cloud hugged her back, his hold around her strong. “I’m not leaving without you,” he sobbed through her shoulder.

“Is there really no other way to do this?” Tifa heard the woman ask in gentle fret.

“No,” Vincent replied plainly.

Tifa did not know how long they both held on to each other, but the man eventually found a way to separate them. Cloud was pried from her, albeit with great force, while Vincent managed to pull her away despite the intense leaking by her water and his blizzard. She would later find out it was because of a certain water bangle that he had to wear to protect himself from her magic, but he still had to take in a few curatives after. That was because she fought in his grasp, desperate to reach for Cloud as he was being carried by the man into his car. He must also be wearing a bangle for blizzard, she thought, in order to handle Cloud like that. More water poured out of her as she watched the car speed away with Cloud inside.

He was all that she had left.

She wept for the rest of the day, no longer concerning herself where she leaked or when. She mourned for losing someone, yet again, and for being alone for good. She stayed silent through the sleepless night until the next day when Vincent arrived again. This time, he came for her.

She was brought outside where the grass had wilted and the land had churned from Cloud’s frost. A long black car waited there and beside it was President Shinra himself who stood waiting with reposed stillness. He offered Tifa a civil smile under the furtive wrinkles of his eyes.

“And you must be Tifa Lockhart,” President Shinra said and leaned forward to her.

Tifa blinked a few times before nodding.

“President Shinra will be taking you in,” Vincent told her. “He will take care of you and keep you safe.”

“And you can take my word for it,” President Shinra added. “My son, Rufus, also has the same gift that you do. His is lightning, if you are familiar with the spell. Are you?”

Lightning meant electricity, Tifa thought. She nodded.

“Smart girl. So you also follow that I am more than capable of protecting you, correct? Failure to do so means failure to do the same for my son. You will be well-provided for in my mansion. I will also send you to school, which I know you will quite like because I heard you like reading very much.”

Tifa nodded again. There was no other way to respond to the man.

“Good. Then I trust that you and my son will be very good friends, yes?”

“Y-yes, Sir.”

“Ah, she talks!” President Shinra exclaimed with a grin. 

“You’re going to adopt me?” she asked shyly.

“No, but he will be your legal guardian,” Vincent answered for her.

“Mister Valentine is right,” President Shinra added. “Perhaps you should start packing your things. Your new home is going to be a long trek from here.”

Tifa felt Matron’s hand on her shoulder. She nodded at President Shinra before allowing herself to be guided back into the shelter.

Vincent turned around once the two disappeared and were out of earshot, a signal for the President to listen closely. It did not escape the man who smirked knowingly.

“Yes, Mister Valentine?” he beckoned.

“I’d like to make sure that she will be safe and well, Mister President,” Vincent replied.

The President scoffed. “I always keep my word. To break a promise is an insult to my honor, and I am simply not that kind of man,” President Shinra replied. “I worry that you don’t trust me on this.”

Vincent creased his brows together. “To expect you to take her, to provide, and to keep her safe is too much for something so little in return.”

President Shinra chuckled, lowly and guttural. “You don’t have the faintest idea what this means to me, Mister Valentine,” he said. “What you ask for her is pale in comparison to the great favor you have given me. We are in the act of ensuring my son’s own safety. Water, lightning, you know how it is going to be.”


	2. Rufus Shinra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my favorite Beta Naya for beta-reading and for pointing out things that gave this chapter much more sense! I know I have been raving about Naya, but she is a very reliable beta-reader and friend, so thank you!

The trip was indeed long, even longer than Tifa had expected.

Their first stop was at the airport. It was larger than she remembered, now with more steel beams, windows, and less of the people buzzing around with their duffle bags and luggages. It was the second time she had been there, the first being with her parents when they travelled to Gold Saucer two years ago for her eighth birthday. It was one of the happiest days of her life, the most indulgent one she had— countless rides, game booths, and the most delicious churros she ever ate. The memory was a painful pang in her heart which was reduced into nothing more than a lingering image of a family she used to have. And now she was walking again as an orphan under the care of a guardian she never knew.

_How did this happen?_ She thought. It all transpired so quickly and gave her no chance to decide what she wanted for herself. Too weak to save her parents and too powerless to choose her own family. So strangers decided for her.

The people flowed from counter to counter for check-ins whilst her group walked straight to another gate. It led them to a carpeted hall with wide windows for walls. The night was black, silent, and starless. She followed President Shinra and the rest of their companions to the end of the hall where an entrance to a plane waited.

It was small inside, much smaller than the one she and her parents rode but way cozier. There were only six sets of chairs, all wide and thickly cushioned with individual tables, the walls beige and white, and the floor brown, carpeted, and spotless. She was guided to sit at the other end of the plane alone while President Shinra took his chair near the cockpit. They flew to the air as soon as the doors were closed and she felt herself suddenly shudder at the thought of leaving. Already, she wanted to protest and insist to be taken back to the orphanage so she could start her search for Cloud, the only person she truly belonged with. But the Highwinds did not want her, for one. Secondly, she did not know where to start looking. Third, she somehow knew she would find herself back on the plane.

She sighed deeply. Her eyes burned and a sob escaped her throat, so she bit her lower lip to muffle her voice that resounded in the small deck. She glanced around consciously to see if anyone heard her crying, but then realized that they were all looking at their phones to notice. She swore, however, that she saw President Shinra grimace. Tifa placed a hand over her mouth to hush her voice before she could embarrass herself even more. The President seemed to have a thin patience.

She could not eat more than a few bites of the dinner she was served an hour later. The kind stewardess left her a glass of milk and a bottle of water in which she found comfort from for the rest of their flight. No one else spared her a word and she kept herself silent.

It was already dawn when they landed in Junon, something she learned from one of the President's companions who was quickly on his phone when she felt the plane hit the ground. She was led down the staircase to an open field where another long black car was waiting. Thirty minutes later, they were already in front of a mansion.

"Where is Marle?" the President snapped at one of the attending uniformed butlers when they stepped out to the driveway.

"Right here, Sir," a slim elderly woman answered as she appeared from the front door. Her blue eyes against her pale skin and thick gray hair made her look almost like a spectre, but her upright composure demonstrated a great sense of keenness. She looked at Tifa as the President spoke.

"The girl is Tifa, and I will entrust her care to you," he said. "Take it from here."

"Yes, Sir," Marle replied as President Shinra walked past her and into the door. She nodded at a butler and said "Take her things to my quarters," before scanning Tifa from her head to her feet. Tifa shifted uneasily under the scrutiny.

"So you're the orphan girl," Marle said. "The one with water powers."

Tifa gulped and nodded once. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Just Marle, darling. No need for formality around me. Come." Marle reached out a hand for her, signaling for her to take it. She was patient even when Tifa took a moment to regard it before finally following through.

The interior was nothing she had ever seen before. The white walls were patterned with dark wooden panels and smooth tiles and stones, creating an elegant illusion of more space. The floors were plated with pearl white and emerald marbles thumping gently against her footsteps, every corner of the room was furbished with the greenest plants, gold-speckled statues, lounge chairs, and on one of the walls was where the fireplace mounted. They kept walking until they reached a sliding glass door leading to a wide open grassy ground where bushes of yellow flowers laid along the edges and a large white gazebo stood somewhere in the middle. They kept going until she could see several cabins bordering along the edge of the property. Marle unlocked one of the doors and allowed Tifa in before following behind her.

Inside had a much simpler interior, but still nicer and bigger than the house she had in Nibelheim— walls painted white with wooden frames, windows in every turn, and lumbered floors. A gray carpet laid in the middle under a coffee table and white and yellow lights hung in the ceiling. It didn't look like a quarters, she thought. It felt more like a rest house.

Marle stood by a door, opened it, and flipped a switch inside revealing a room with a bed, a lounge chair, a desk, a bathroom, and a wide window draped with long gray curtains overseeing the lawn and the mansion.

"This is going to be your room," Marle told her. "I hope you like it."

"It's…" Tifa dallied on her words as she glanced around the room. "It's really big."

"Too big?"

"Uhm…" Tifa's eyes landed on the bed. It was big enough for two, three if it was to be used at the orphanage. All that space for her and only her. She thought about Cloud and wondered again why they could not be together.

Marle sighed behind her. "I'll let you settle in first. Maybe take a bath since you've come from a long flight. You've got clothes in the drawer, see if they fit. I'll make you something to eat. Can't let you sleep with an empty stomach."

Tifa turned around and forced a smile. "Uhm… Thank you, Marle."

Marle smiled back, softening her otherwise sharp features. "You'll get used to the life here. It's not too hard. All you need to remember is to keep out of the President's sight. He's a busy man, gets easily pissed when people get in his way. Better stay away from his son, too."

"But… President Shinra said we can be friends."

"Did he? Very well then, if you can manage. That kid is hard to please and harder to be pleased with. Stiff like his dad, even angrier and short-tempered after what happened in Nibelheim. Not to mention his lightning powers. Certainly not good for you. If you wanna be friends with him, keep your distance, literally. You hear?"

Tifa nodded. She never imagined a kid to sound so difficult and decided to take Marle's advice to heart.

"I am also strict with school. Go to your classes, do your homework, and you better make sure I don't get called over by the principal or your teacher for the wrong reasons. Other than those, make yourself at home."

* * *

On her first night at Marle's quarters, or morning since dawn had long since passed, Tifa realized that no amount of food, comfort, or space could help her sleep. She could see the slow rise of the sun from the window behind her and hear the faint footsteps against the grass out on the wide lawn followed by voices. Marle's joined in minutes later and she imagined that it meant she was ready to start her work around the property. She tried to close her eyes and forced herself to sleep for far too many times only for them to bounce open again and restart her struggle. Her eyes were too tired and too heavy from crying and her mind had never been at peace for the longest time. A night of uninterrupted slumber would make it all better, if only it was not too difficult.

She sat up and turned her head to the window, squinting at the soft light that had become too harsh for her hazy eyes. She took a deep breath and slid from her bed, grabbing the red ribbon she had been using to tie her hair and did just that. Back in Nibelheim, sleepless nights meant she got to walk around outside. It was something her mother taught her— to spend all her remaining energy by walking. She would know when she was tired enough and sleep would come to her naturally. It worked wonders to her then, maybe it also would now.

She stepped out of the quarters quietly, careful not to attract any attention, though a few of the helpers glanced her way curiously before quickly returning to whatever they were working on. Even Marle only paid her a passing look and nothing more before turning back to an older man she was talking to and allowing Tifa to wander further to the lawn, making sure to walk by the gazebo so she could take a closer look. She imagined that five or six people could fit in it and still have enough space for other things. A band of musicians seemed sensible enough for it.

Tifa had found herself walking far enough to reach a sliding glass door to the mansion. She found a small opening on the side and all she had to do was push it back a little to let herself in. The air was cooler inside, though it was a different kind of cold from the air Cloud could make. They must have an airconditioner in here, she thought, like the hotels and malls and offices. To have one in the house other than the bedroom was unusual, and it was the first time she had experienced something like it.

The kitchen was the first room she entered. She figured by the three faucets and sinks, the built-in oven, and the refrigerator that almost blended with the wooden panelling of the walls if it wasn't for its doors' metallic finish. The whole place was spacious, big enough for a cook or two to move around. She saw more marbles for the counters, nooks, and even for the cabinets and drawers. Her eyes had just landed on the dining set in the middle when her vision caught a boy standing by the entryway. She jumped back and gasped.

"And who are you?" the boy snapped at her. She would guess he was about her age, maybe a little older because he was slightly taller. His hair was light blonde, almost silver under direct light and resembling the President's, his blue eyes narrowed in an apparent displeasure as he glared at her and her presence, and his lips pressed in a tight line. She stepped back, feeling the repellent air shoving her out, but something was holding her there. Perhaps it was the resemblance he had of Cloud— except for his face which was a little longer and his eyes which were sharper— that gave her a small sense of familiarity that she had been wanting for a while now. She took another step back and his frown deepened at her senseless response to his previous inquiry. Impatient, like the President. Maybe he was the son.

"You're Rufus?" Tifa blurted out.

"What?"

"You're… erm…" Tifa cleared her throat. "You're the President's son. Rufus."

"And?"

Another step back. Tifa could feel the water seeping out her fingertips. She was growing more disconcerted about the whole exchange that she wished to become smaller and disappear. "I—"

"Who are you?" Rufus barked.

She swallowed. "Tifa," she replied, her voice shaky from the quivering in her chest.

"Wasn't so hard, was it?" he snarled. "What are you doing here?"

Tifa inhaled deeply and clenched her fists to stop the water from coming out, but she could only hold on for so much and so long. The water had found its way through the clefts of her fists and pelted to the floor. She began to run towards the sliding door to the grassy lawn where she could leak freely without making any more mess.

"Stop right there!"

Tifa drifted to a halt, clasping her fists tighter while more water dripped to the floor. Rufus' footsteps drew closer and she hesitated before turning her head over her shoulder to him. He was looking at the trail of water and then her hands where more was pouring out. He knelt by the puddle and emitted a flashing electrical buzz from his fingers when he tried to touch it. He flinched away and lifted his head to her.

"You're the water girl?" he asked.

"Uhm… yeah…" Tifa replied quietly and nodded. "And you have lightning. Right?"

Rufus stood, glanced at the puddle while rubbing his fingers then looked at her. "Yes. My father told you?"

Tifa's brows knitted at his sudden change of demeanour to a more pliant one, weighing over how she should behave."Yeah," she said anyway.

Rufus was silent for a moment before gesturing to her wet hands. "Were you planning to take that outside?"

Tifa nodded fiercely.

He held out an arm forward, motioning at her to walk ahead. When Tifa looked over the splatter she left behind, he said "They'll clean it up."

Tifa met his eyes which had softened from whatever they had progressed into. Tifa took quick steps out to the lawn and opened her hands, freely splashing the water onto the grassy ground. Rufus was behind her, keeping his distance, and still rubbing his fingers while watching hers.

"Were you hurt?" she asked.

He cast her a serious look. "No."

Tifa faced him and observed his fingers. They were slightly red from what seemed like a burn which she guessed came from the spark that happened when he touched the water.

"You look hurt."

Rufus' face contorted in a way that was ready to deny it and then swiftly relaxed in admittance. "A little," he whispered.

Tifa reached forward for his hand but he quickly recoiled back.

"I just wanna see," she said.

"You'll make it worse," he retorted.

She widened her eyes at his reply and slowly withdrew her hand. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

His sight motioned at her wet hands. "Won't you?"

Tifa felt the sudden warmth numb her cheeks. Was this boy trying to humiliate her? She scowled. "If you stop being like that maybe the water will stop too!"

"Like what?" he challenged.

"Like that!"

He frowned back, asking her to elaborate.

Tifa huffed and turned away as she started stomping back to Marle's quarters.

"Where are you going?" he called behind her.

"Back to sleep!" she shouted back miffedly.

Rufus grinned as he watched her trample across the lawn and entered one of the quarters at the far end. _Marle_ _'_ _s_ , he thought. That was where she was staying. He scoffed to himself as he turned around and entered his house.

The walk worked to empty her excess energy, though it took a longer while to push the thoughts of the rude boy off her mind. Somehow still, it felt as though the place had presented her a new problem aside from the abrupt separation from all she had known in her old life. This was going to be her new life, and she would have to do her best to make deal. Maybe one day, when she could finally leave on her own, then she could work on bringing back what she once had.

All those thoughts made her even more tired and lulled her to sleep.

* * *

It was already late in the afternoon when she opened her eyes again, awoken by a loud tapping in the room. She begrudgingly and sleepily forced herself to shift to the door, thinking Marle must be trying to wake her up. When the tapping continued, she realized it was not coming from the door. And they were _not_ knocks. She sat up and glanced around the room with wide eyes and the tapping became louder and unceasing. She whirled her head to the window.

Rufus was standing there, an impatient look in his eyes, gesturing at her to turn the knob. Tifa inhaled deeply, slid herself from the bed, and traipsed to the window with heavy steps. She rubbed her eyes as she shoved the curtains to the side and unlatched the lock.

"You didn't answer my question," Rufus preambled curtly.

Tifa frowned and eyed him sleepily. "Hm?"

"What annoyed you about me," he snapped, unappreciative of her hazy response. "You said I'm making you cast water when I'm being 'like that.' I wanna know."

Tifa drew another deep breath, but mostly to keep herself up and focus. Did he really just wake her up for silly questions? Where were his manners?

"You're doing it now," she said.

Rufus huffed. "What?"

It seemed to unease him, terribly so. Tifa placed a hand on her hip and smirked inwardly. "That."

His frown deepened. Already, he could read through her tomfoolery. "Why won't you tell me?"

"You're a big boy. Try and figure it out yourself."

"I won't leave if you won't tell me."

Tifa shrugged and began to turn back around "Suit yourself."

There was a loud thump behind her and Rufus was already inside the room, glancing around. The sight of him suddenly jump started her up to full alertness and her instincts almost made her shove him back out if it was not for the small bright glint of light that sparked between her fingertip and Rufus' arm. Tifa gasped and Rufus winced as he stepped back.

"I…" Tifa stammered and shook her head. "I didn't…"

"Then be careful," he spat back.

_What a spoiled boy!_ She thought. And he dared wonder what annoyed her about him so much! She wore her glare again. "You're not even _supposed_ to be in here! You're trespassing!"

"I am now, I can, and I am not trespassing because I own this place," he sneered while scanning the ceiling.

"No you don't. President Shinra does!"

Rufus grinned. "And he's my father."

"Well, you're not adult enough to own a place this big."

Rufus shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

Tifa blinked a few times while a brief pause passed between them. Rufus stared at her fixedly while he allowed the fact to sink in her.

"It doesn't?" she repeated.

"No matter how old I am, I am still his heir."

The word "heir" weighed heavily and intervened in the space around them. Tifa felt the hair on her skin rise so she wrapped her arms around herself. "How old are you?"

"Twelve." He flipped his head back to her. "You?"

"Ten."

"See? I'm older than you, and that makes me in charge because I know more things."

Tifa's frown deepened. Every word he lobbed at her was true without a loophole or an argument to appeal with. His smirk grew wider when she hung her head in resignation.

"You don't have much in here," he said. It was meant to pester her.

Tifa raised her head and narrowed her eyes. "Why do you think? I just got here _this morning_."

Rufus crossed his arms against his chest, looking like he had been enjoying her irritated temperament. He nodded down at her hands.

"Your hands are dripping again."

Tifa gasped and lifted her palms to look at them— water was trickling from them just like he said. She sprinted to the window and held her hands out, allowing the water to flow onto the soil. She heard Rufus chuckle behind her.

"Why can't you control it?" he badgered.

"Stop that! This is your fault!" she retorted.

"Say that again?" he challenged sorely.

Tifa glared at him over her shoulder. "This is your fault," she repeated a matter-of-factly like he was an idiot. That seemed to do it for him when she caught a small spark on his right hand which he quickly clenched tightly.

"You see now how it happens?" she said, motioning her eyes to his hand.

Rufus harrumphed and slid his hands into his pockets. "At least I can control them better."

"By not feeling anything?" she snarled.

"Feel, not feel, I can hold them back without making a mess."

Tifa rolled her eyes and examined her hands, drawing them back to herself when the water stopped.

"I always make you angry then," he said.

"Seems like it." Tifa was about to shake her hands but then briefly regarded Rufus with careful consideration before deciding to wipe them along the sides of her long nightdress. "How long are you staying here?"

"How much longer are you planning to sleep?"

"As long as I'd like to, thank you very much."

Rufus snorted and threw himself on the chair by the desk. "Then I'll stay here just as long."

"Why are you doing this?"

Rufus scanned her. "I want to know more about you, seeing how it is easy for you to hurt me."

"I never meant to hurt you!" Tifa felt her voice rising.

Rufus lifted his arm where her touch from earlier left a red mark.

"It was an accident! Don't blame me!" Tifa exclaimed. "It's not as if you'll never touch water again. You take a bath and drink water, don't you?"

Rufus sighed loudly and lowered his arm.

Tifa blinked. "Don't you?"

"I can take a bath and drink water," Rufus spewed with narrowed offended eyes. "Water that isn't coming from you doesn't hurt me because it's different."

Tifa creased her brows with disbelief.

Rufus rolled his eyes. "Yours is magic. The water we use and consume isn't. It's nature. Do you get hurt when you turn on lights?"

Her face relaxed. Now that he mentioned it, it didn't.

"How do you know that?" she challenged instead.

Rufus shrugged. "My father brought me to his company's scientists the moment we saw the powers. Experts told me." He turned his head toward the bathroom, rose from the chair, and sauntered in. He turned the faucet and allowed the water to run on his hand. It did nothing. "See?"

"Well how was I supposed to know that?!"

Rufus quirked an eyebrow. "I would stop shouting like that if I were you. The staff here are pretty sensitive about me."

Was that menial thing going to get her into trouble? She didn't care either way. She just wanted him out of her room and be alone. Well, _the_ room because it was basically his as he had told her, but she refused to acknowledge it. "What do you want me to do?" Tifa asked exasperatingly instead.

Rufus gazed at her for a moment from across the room before answering. "Tell me your name."

Didn't he hear her the first time? Tifa sighed loudly and shifted on her feet. "Tifa Lockhart."

Rufus hummed in his throat. "Well Tifa, let's go for a walk."

"Why would I do that?"

"You want to sleep, don't you?"

Tifa remained silent.

"I'll leave you alone and let you sleep when we come back."

"And what if I don't wanna go with you?"

Rufus shrugged. "Then I won't leave."

"You _will_ leave when your dad starts looking for you," she argued.

His face turned sour as he turned away. "He's not coming back soon."

"He's out?"

"He's in another house. Maybe."

His voice fell so suddenly and his previous pompous composure vanished. Tifa leaned forward to survey him more closely with his face turned away, trying to catch a glimpse of this side of him he was curiously showing for the first time.

"Okay," she said, deciding finally that there was a good reason behind his request.

Rufus turned back to her with quizzical brows.

She strode to his side, careful to keep her distance. "Let's walk."

* * *

She was back on the lawn for the second time that day. The sun was just about to leave, dying the raw sky gray and beckoning out the soft outdoor lights. Tifa glanced around as they walked in awe of the ambience, while Rufus maintained his eyes forward with his chin up high. They were at each other's reasonable distance— not too close to cause any accidental touching and not too far to affect their sense of company.

They kept walking without a single word exchanged between them, though Tifa did not mind. She was thoroughly enjoying the scenery better at this time of the day without the harsh rays of the sun. She preferred the evening, however, with the stars, the moon, and the clear skies.

"Do you do this often?" Tifa asked.

Rufus turned to her, briefly meeting her inquiring eyes. "No."

Tifa gasped. "You should! You're so lucky to have this kind of lawn with a great view of the sky." She tilted her head up to the heavens.

Rufus followed her view. "Hmph. Not much to see up there."

"Yeah. There isn't. Maybe that's the good thing about it, when you don't see much going on."

"It's boring."

"It's peaceful."

Rufus scoffed and returned his eyes forward. "Then enjoy it yourself. Do it everyday if you want to, since you're living here."

"Maybe I will." If the President was not around, she thought. She lowered her head when she remembered what Marle had warned her about. They kept walking.

They reached a wall of tall green hedge which Rufus was ready to walk through. He turned around when Tifa stopped behind him, surveying the wall.

"What's this?" Tifa asked.

Rufus smirked. "A small maze made of tall bushes and shrubs."

Tifa stepped back. "Won't we get lost in there?"

Rufus laughed and she frowned when he sounded like he was ridiculing her. "I know my way around."

"And what about me?"

"What about you?"

"I _will_ get lost and you won't even come find me."

Rufus laughed more. "And how did you know that?"

Tifa frowned. "I just do. I'm not going in there. Not with you."

Rufus turned around, walked closer to Tifa, and skimmed her over. He then reached for her hair, the brush of his touch giving her a slight electric shock that made her yelp, and yanked off the red ribbon. He looped one end around his wrist and handed her the other.

"Now take it and tie it around your wrist," he said.

Tifa hesitated but did as she was told, understanding then what he was trying to do.

"See? As long as we're tied up like this, you won't get lost and I won't have to come and find you," Rufus said before tugging at the ribbon and pulling her closer to follow him.

The hedges continued inside, intimidating and towering and scary. She was never a claustrophobe but the place had definitely triggered something in her. Rufus kept going in, further and farther in without paying as much a glance. It was one thing that he knew the maze like the back of his hand, but another that an ordeal for her was a piece of cake for him. She could only trust him so she let him lead her through the path.

They stopped when they reached an open area enclosed within walls of more tall hedges. In the middle stood a ceramic fountain which had apparently aged with time if the chips and streaks of dirt were of any indication, surrounded by moss-covered stone benches. The whole scenery was beautiful, especially with the lavenders, lilies, and roses that accented the shrubs and giving the place more life. She could only imagine how much more beautiful it could be if the fountain was actually working.

It turned out that Rufus was thinking of the same thing.

"Cast water to it," he ordered, pointing at the fountain.

Tifa scowled behind him. "I will if you ask nicely."

He threw her a glare over his shoulder. She raised an eyebrow as a provocative response. Rufus tugged her so forcefully she stumbled forward.

"Hey!"

"Do it."

"No!"

Rufus was about to pull the ribbon again but Tifa anticipated it this time. She yanked the ribbon back in resistance. Rufus grunted.

"Just cast water!" he yelled.

"Say please!" Tifa returned.

More pulling.

"Alright! Please!"

Tifa smirked and quickly slipped her wrist off the ribbon. The force from his side had caused him to fall to the ground on his back. He glared and followed her with his eyes while she paid him with a smirk as she walked by toward the fountain.

She stared at it for a moment, suddenly unsure of how she would do it. She held out a hand to the basin, invoking the water from within her to flow through her fingers. She closed her eyes tightly, drawing through her will to cast the spell.

But her hands remained dry.

Rufus rose to his feet and approached her side. He chuckled when her arms began shaking from trying too hard. "What are you doing?" he jabbed.

Tifa shot him a deathly glare. "Doing what you asked, what else?"

"You're doing it wrong."

"You're too smart for your own good, you know that?" Tifa snarled.

"A good thing, too," he replied and raised his hand with a small ball of lightning on his palm. "Since I'm smarter than you, I know how to cast magic anytime I want."

He was gloating, Tifa could tell from the tone of his voice. Not only that, but he was belittling her own ability to perform. His smug look was making her so angry she started clenching her jaw.

"Magic has its own life, and its life depends on us. If we feel it, it feels us. It reacts. You gotta feel it inside you."

"Yeah?" Tifa snapped, raising an eyebrow. "How?"

Rufus lowered his hand and the ball of lightning disappeared. "Look for it."

But she didn't need to, not anymore. Rufus nodded at her hand and Tifa gasped when water started pouring from it. She shook her head in disbelief.

"I…" She turned her hand upward as more water flowed. "I don't know how I did that."

"You are angry with me," Rufus said, shifting his eyes to the basin of the fountain as Tifa's water started to fill it. "So the water in you is angry, too. Do you feel it?"

"How would I know?"

"You'll know because it's different."

Tifa gulped as she tried to hold on to her concentration. She was angry at Rufus, sure, but she was also frustrated at herself for not getting it right the first time. And did she really have to be angry just to cast water by her own will? But then there was this another feeling in her. No, not feeling. A _sensation_ that tickled differently. It was familiar, one she experienced more times than she had noticed because she had been trying to hide it most of the time. Because whenever she did, fear and sadness and anger almost always took over. But it was always there, that feeling, and it had always been a part of her since that day.

So she let it flow.

Rufus was smirking at her the whole time she was filling the basin, though it looked almost as if he was smiling at her under the soft light of the place. The dusk had soon turned to night and blanketing the whole place with cool evening air. The maze, the _garden_ did not feel so scary anymore. It was cozy.

"You can stop now," Rufus told her, and so she did. He then motioned his arm backward. "Step back."

Tifa did as she was told and stepped further away when Rufus gestured at her to.

He then returned to the architecture and placed a hand on the edge of the fountain. He expelled thin long bolts of lightning around it for a few seconds until water began spurting from the top.

Tifa gasped as she watched the fountain come to life. It was an unseen beauty, almost wasted by neglect and drought. It was a thing to behold which had the misfortune of waiting for her and Rufus' arrival.

Rufus scanned their work and grinned. "That was fun, wasn't it?"

"It's beautiful."

There was silence between them, one that came as they watched the water dance from one tier down to another. It was also in this moment that Tifa noticed the small lights around the fountain that were fixed at the direction of the water. She smiled, unaware of the glance Rufus cast her. He quickly turned away and went back to the fountain.

"My father is with his other family," he said, so sudden was it that Tifa could only look at him with gazed focus. "Well, that depends on which family," he scoffed. "His company, or his fake friends, or…"

"Or…?"

Rufus made a curious hum in his throat. "Or, you know, his other kids."

Tifa blinked. It was not new to her, to hear how a father or a mother bearing kids with people who were not their spouses, but people were often quiet about it. Her mother had told her it was because they were _not_ supposed to do that. It created pain in families, anger, and hatred, especially the kids. The kids were always at the short end of the stick. Whatever that meant.

But then she realized that his smirk was gone, his playfulness simmered down, and his eyes were sad. And that he had just confessed to her what he was not supposed to. Maybe his mother didn't teach him, she thought. Then again, she never saw a Missus Shinra around. Maybe he just wanted to tell her because he was hurt and angry like her mother said.

And when _she_ was hurt and angry, all she really wanted was someone who would listen. So, without uttering a word, she stood still and silently watched the fountain with him.

* * *

When the air had gone too cold for both of them, Rufus led her out of the maze as they did before— using her red ribbon.

He did not bid her goodnight, not even a wave goodbye as he made his own way back to the mansion. Maybe he was tired as she was which she _would_ understand better. After all, that was the whole point of their walk. He also promised her sleep and he was holding up his part of the bargain as far as she knew.

Marle was sitting in the dining room, eyes fixed on the television screen. It was showing a novelty segment of the evening news, something about the best creme brulees around Midgar. Tifa nodded at the elder once before silently walking to her room.

"I think there's some warning about the President's son you ought to know about," Marle suddenly said that made Tifa stop on her feet.

Marle shifted her attention to her, eyes deadpan, and continued. "I have no talent to waltz around words, so I'm just gonna tell you the truth because that's what you need to know. That boy, that Rufus, was taught to be friendly with you because you can hurt him. You are dangerous to him. I have no problem with you being friends with him. Heck, it's all what everyone in his household wants to make the President happy and veer him out of their necks. But you are too kind for a girl to not deserve the truth. So, for the sake of your heart, keep that in mind when he gets too friendly."

"Is it bad when he gets too friendly?" she asked.

Marle shrugged. "Not really. You get to his good side, he gets to yours, everyone will be happy. I just don't want you to find yourself being used by him."

Tifa tilted her head. "Used?"

"When he makes you do things for his own gain. When you start to forget that what you want is important, too."

Tifa nodded. "Right. Got it."

"What I'm saying is to look out for yourself. Be careful."

"Okay. Thanks, Marle."

Tifa slid into her room the moment she was allowed to. She took a shower before throwing herself on her bed for the third time that day. Now that she had the time to think, he _did_ seem a little too friendly, especially when he suddenly opened up to her about his father. She wasn't supposed to know that, was she? She felt that it was too private and inappropriate. Or maybe it wasn't too bad, not in this household anyway. After all, she was just told not to be too friendly with Rufus because he might _use_ her.

As she drifted to sleep, she thought how much the whole household was weird.


	3. Unclouded

Tifa didn't see Rufus the next day or the two days after that. In fact, she might not have seen him for the whole week for all she knew. It was hard to keep count since she started school that Monday, and so she assumed that Rufus did too.

The Leaf House School was smaller than Nibelheim Institute which meant it was easier for her to get around and make friends. The classrooms were not as spacious and there were too few students to learn with, but they had a wide garden with flowers in full bloom. The teachers were all women from what she noticed, and so were the housekeeping personnel. The lunch lady was nice and cooked better food than her old school did, but there were no high school students to make louder noises in the canteen. There were just them— the grade schoolers, their teachers, the school staff, and the nameless lady in suit that always went with her.

Marle told her that the lady was her chaperon and was meant to do nothing beyond escorting her. But Tifa knew the lady was too intimidating to be curbed into just babysitting. She knew Vincent's concern did not stop after she was taken by President Shinra. Her safety was still at risk and the lady in suit was clearly there to protect her which only meant that Hojo was definitely still out there. She guessed she should be thankful that the lady was making her feel safe and unafraid. Catching up with school after everything was hard enough as it was.

Marle would always have their supper ready everytime Tifa came home. She would then do her homework, give herself a short break and eat snacks or drink hot cocoa, then return to her homework. The routine they had built up during school days was already starting to give her a sense of home, a new one she was slowly starting to get used to. And home meant her heart was at peace, so was the water in her.

Saturday arrived on a rainy morning. The thick melodious drops were a lullaby and the cool foggy air a gentle caress that clouted her to the bed. It was the combination of the two that denied her from opening her eyes or deeming the time of the day. Marle was not calling for her yet either, which she could only assume was from her tremendous consideration as a pay-off for all her hard work at school. It had been a long week of adjusting to the place that she felt deserving of indulging herself with sleeping all day and nothing else.

She briefly thought of Cloud, wondering where he was and if he was thinking of her, too. Maybe the day would have been different if they were together instead. Maybe they would have had breakfast together, or watched the tv, or maybe played in the rain. He would be colder than he already was, but he would be her warmth in this lonely place. He would be her excuse out of bed and her reason for staying up longer at night. The thought— the longing— scratched painfully in her chest and provoked the water inside again. It had almost won over her self-restraint until she heard the loud tapping. Again.

She ignored it at first, guessing it might have come from some branch or something else hanging outside and being blown by the wind. Maybe poked by the heavy raindrops and forced against the walls or the roof. But the tapping was… rhythmic. Then it became persistent.

Tifa groaned and shot up from her bed, knowing exactly where to look. And just as she had thought, Rufus was standing there, umbrella in one hand and tapping the window with the other. She quickly sprinted to the window and hurriedly opened it to let Rufus in.

"What the heck, Rufus?!" she scolded. He smirked.

Only his umbrella was dripping wet, swamping the floor with small puddles. They were just rainwater and easy to clean, so Tifa didn't mind. But she demanded Rufus to take off his muddy shoes. Mud was disgusting and a pain to scrub off. Rufus did without protest, but then he took off his socks too while Tifa could only watch. She huffed and headed back to her bed.

Rufus frowned at her direction. "Isn't it late enough for that?"

"It's never late enough to sleep on a weekend," Tifa replied while lifting her duvet then scooting herself under. She was in no mood for any teasing or talking or walking. She just wanted to stay in bed. Rufus could sit and wait if he wanted to.

"It's almost noon."

"So?"

Rufus stomped to her side and swiftly pulled the covers from her.

"HEY!"

Rufus sneered. "I bet you haven't eaten breakfast yet."

Tifa tried to reach for the other end of the duvet, but Rufus pulled the whole thing to the floor. She scowled at him. "Let me sleep!"

"You're being silly!"

"I don't wanna get out of bed and I don't wanna eat yet! Marle hasn't woken me up yet, so that means I can still stay in bed!"

"So you do what Marle tells you to do?"

Tifa narrowed her eyes and slightly shook her head at him for missing the obvious. "Well, duh! She's taking care of me!"

Rufus let out a chuckle, a _sly_ one. "Do you remember what I said about me being the heir? That means I am also the master of this house. _That_ means I am Marle's master. Which means _I_ get to tell you what to do!"

Tifa's brows creased so deeply it almost hurt her forehead. She stood by the bed on the other side and stamped a foot hardly on the floor. "You're not the boss of me!"

His eyes darted to her hands. Water was dripping from her and she was quick to catch that one, though she refused to show him. She quickly turned on her heels and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door so hard it bounced on the doorframe and opened slightly, enough for Rufus to peek in. He hesitated, knowing he would be crossing a forbidden line. He wasn't going to. But then the sobs from inside did it for him.

Tifa was in a bathtub when Rufus entered— knees folded to her chest and head buried in her hands as water kept flowing out and down the drain. He crossed his arms.

"Stop crying," he said sternly.

Tifa lifted her eyes and glared at him. She didn't know why she was crying either. Maybe because his words had broken the truth into her, the one that she had feared the most about the place— that it was not a home. It was someone else's home, someone who was in charge of her— strangers she would have to answer to. She had thought it would only have to be Marle, but now it made sense. Marle had been part of the housekeeping staff of the mansion, the villa, or whatever kind of palace they would call the place. She looked away and sniffled.

"You don't get to tell me what to do," she muttered. She knew it was brave of her to say that, but then what was he gonna do? They both knew how well she was capable of retaliating if he tried anything.

Rufus narrowed his eyes. She was jabbing at his patience the longer she kept herself tucked away, from him especially. Nobody had ever dared turned their back on him and she would have been the first. Then again, he knew exactly what to tell her, a soft girl like her whose heart was too tender and weak.

"Or what, Tifa?" he challenged. He could feel the tingle in his fingertips. "What other choice do you have? You're stuck here, whether you like it or not. This is your life now and your family."

Tifa sobbed and buried her head in between her knees once more. The water still poured out from her and filled the bathtub enough to cover her feet. "No," she whispered.

"What?"

"No. Cloud is my family."

Rufus blinked and frowned. He leaned in closer. "What did you say?"

Tifa lifted her head, her eyes still downcast and avoiding his. "Cloud is my family. Not you or anyone else."

The tingle grew hot in his hands and he was sure a small spark came through before he clenched his fists tightly to quash the lightning. He blinked a few times and his breaths grew uneven while Tifa silently shed more tears. He inhaled once, twice, and some more until he calm down while telling himself that she was wrong. Of course she was. She was taken from the orphanage and kept in a place where he lived with his father. Which meant that she had no other family or relatives to take her in. And Cloud, whoever that person was, was not around. She had no other choice. She couldn't have. But she had decided. And she chose to believe that she had no family there. Especially not him.

"Fine," he said, finally breaking the silence that grew dense between them. "I'm not your family. But that won't change a thing, you know? I can and _will_ still tell you what to do."

Tifa looked up when she heard a loud thump on the countertop. Rufus had just placed a Banora apple there, the most violet she had seen.

"Eat your breakfast," Rufus said before leaving Tifa, putting his shoes back on, and then climbing out of the window with his umbrella. He walked under the drizzle with his head down to the muddy lawn before he suddenly realized that it was a sore sight of failure. And he'd very much like to believe that he _wasn_ _'_ _t_ one. He didn't fail to assert his rule over Tifa or anyone, which was an expectation his father had allotted him with. It was her who was still crying in the end. Ha.

Even then, it wasn't what he had planned. The whole thing played differently in his head and it wasn't supposed to turn out like that. She wasn't supposed to cry.

As he walked towards the mansion, he reached into his pocket and took out another Banora apple, the one he had reserved for himself, the one he planned to eat while she ate hers. The breakfast he had planned with her.

* * *

Tifa was still staring at the apple when Marle entered the room. Careful footsteps announced her arrival that came to an abrupt stop by the window judging from their fainter sound. It was then followed by a call for her name.

"In here," Tifa called back weakly, but audible enough for her voice to bounce louder against the tiled walls. Marle's eyes were quickly filled with concern for Tifa the moment she came in.

"You poor thing," she said, turning her head to look at the apple, to a pair of socks in her hand, then back at Tifa.

Tifa rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. "Hey, Marle."

"He's been here, hasn't he? The young Shinra?"

Tifa swallowed and nodded.

"What did he do? Did he hurt you?"

Tifa shook her head.

"Then how did you end up there?"

Tifa's eyes began burning again and her fingers dripped with water. She bit her lower lip to stop herself from getting so angry at the memory of her previous exchange with the President's son. "He said that I should do whatever he tells me to do. That this is my life now. That this is my family now. And that I have no choice."

Marle sighed. She sat on the lidded toilet bowl and crossed her legs. "And you're crying because?"

Tifa shrugged and lowered her head, still sniffling and still leaking.

"You know dear, crying is a waste of time. You take the cards you're dealt with and you use them to your advantage. I know that Rufus said the wrong things you didn't have to hear, but those ain't true. You're your own master and you get to have the final say. Choose what you wanna be. You wanna obey everything he says? Go ahead. If you don't want to, no one should stop you. But remember, it also pays to listen if the request is within reason." Marle reached for the apple and handed it to Tifa who slowly and carefully took it. "He brought you that, didn't he?"

Tifa nodded. "He told me to eat my breakfast."

"Do you think it's within reason?"

Tifa thought for a moment before nodding slowly.

"Then you better listen. What else did he tell you?"

"He wanted me out of bed."

"Do you think that's reasonable?"

Tifa wasn't sure how to answer that. She lifted her eyes to Marle and gauged the older woman's expression for the right reply. Marle only raised her eyebrows, waiting for her answer with high expectations.

"Yes," Tifa finally answered.

"Why?"

"Because…" Tifa's eyes darted around the room. "Because it's almost noon."

Marle closed her eyes and nodded slowly. "I allowed you to stay in bed because I understand that you need more time. But Rufus came here not long before I did to do something I should have. I was just too busy looking over the other chores around the mansion."

"But I want to sleep some more," Tifa whined.

"I know, dear. But too long is enough, don't you think? Now, before you think I'm taking sides here, I'm not. But from the way I see it, Rufus is doing some good work looking after you."

"But…" Tifa shifted in the tub and faced Marle with puffy eyes. "What if he's just being nice so he can use me?"

Marle chuckled. "Believe me kid. You'll know when that happens. And if you aren't sure, you can ask me and I'll tell you. You don't have to listen to me or believe me. You're your own master, right?"

Tifa nodded. "Right."

"And what do you plan to do now?"

Tifa shrugged and cast her eyes down.

"If I were you, I'd stand now, clean up, and change into dry clothes. And—" she nodded at the apple. "Why not eat that thing, too?"

* * *

.

.

.

It must have stopped raining during the night.

Tifa sat up on her bed and squinted at the window where the rising sun beamed through the curtains. Yesterday started badly, but it ended on a better note. Marle permitted her to stay inside the quarters the whole day in her effort to avoid Rufus at all cost. She read her books, watched tv, and helped Marle prepare dinner before drinking her warm milk and going to bed. She promised herself to wake up earlier the next day, a discipline Marle had encouraged her to impose on herself. And so she did.

Marle was already gone by the time she stepped out of her room, but not before leaving her a few pancakes for breakfast. Tifa took her time to finish them before deciding that she needed some sun for herself after the previous day's circumstances that made her stay indoors all day long. Being cooped up like that was not something she was accustomed to. She needed the sun, the breeze, and the soil under her feet.

The usual bustle around the mansion had long since started for the day. She thought that the helpers, the gardeners, and the staff who busied themselves into making the whole place even cleaner and more beautiful had made it easier for her to blend in and dodge Rufus' sight. She stared at the mansion that stood at the other end, wondering if Rufus had decided to stay inside for the day. He had better, she thought, because she had her own plans all for herself.

She made her way to the entrance of the maze of green hedges where the dew from the rain and humid air stuck around and glinted under the morning sky. She took a deep breath, the aftermath of the petrichor soothing through her nose. She had tried to remember every turn Rufus led her to the week before as a precautionary measure just in case he decided to leave her to find her own way back. She also attempted to remember the way out, but directions and turns worked differently, didn't they? Didn't matter, she thought. She was once told to keep turning left in a maze and she would eventually find her way. She walked in.

And panic set in not five minutes later.

Tifa kept her left hand against the wall of hedges and kept walking, and turning, and reached a dead end. She would turn around then, round a corner, and another dead end. Regret had quickly sunk in. Then fear.

And before she knew it, she was leaking again.

"No," Tifa whispered as she lifted her hand, already wet from the water magic. "No no no, not now, please!"

"Who's there?"

Tifa pressed her lips together tightly and froze. It was Rufus on the other side of the hedge wall, no doubt about it. And he was fast approaching from the sounds of his footsteps against the dry leaves on the ground. He appeared at the turn she made and shot her a pensive look. He quickly strode to her direction before she could say something and slid the red ribbon off her hair. He tied one end around his wrist and handed her the other with the notion of her knowing what she must do. She followed through, tied the ribbon around her wrist, and when she was done, he guided her to the fountain.

It was still how she left it— water flowing gracefully up and dancing down the ceramic tiers. The ground was softer and the benches were still moist from the rain. Rufus did not move nor did he say anything. He simply stood here, still tied to her by the ribbon and staring at the fountain. He would flinch back now and then and Tifa soon realized it was by the small sprinkles of water hitting his skin. She remembered that it was _her_ water, not from nature or the rain. So she stepped back and tugged him a little farther away. He yielded wordlessly, though her initiative did seem to permit him to finally say something.

"Who's Cloud?"

Tifa lifted her eyes to him and he looked back affectedly. For what reason, she didn't know. Perhaps it was some curiosity that had been gnawing in him since yesterday when she spat it at him as a defense.

"Cloud is my very good friend."

He shuffled on his soles to face her fully. "A girl?"

Tifa's mouth quirked a little and she shook her head. "A boy. He's also ten. We grew up together in Nibelheim. He also survived the attack and got magic, too."

"Really?"

Tifa nodded. "His is ice."

Rufus' eyes moved down. "I see. So you can touch him?"

Tifa nodded slowly. "Yeah," She muttered and lowered her head. How she missed Cloud. "Yeah."

"What is he like?"

"He's quiet. Very shy. But he's brave. He's got big dreams, too. He's sensitive, stays by my side or sits with me when I'm sad. I guess that also makes him thoughtful. Cloud's got the funniest hair. He's blond, like you, though his is spiky, like a chocobo. He also got blue eyes, so blue it's like looking at the sea or the sky. He's also…"

She trailed off when she felt that her words had provoked the water in her once again. She clenched her fists, her tied hand tugging the ribbon so very slightly that Rufus barely noticed.

"You're sad again," he said.

Tifa nodded. "I just miss him."

"How can a friend be a family?"

She raised her gaze at him, his expression pinched and puzzled. It was an honest question, not one to insult her like she had initially felt. "He's a very good friend, someone I really care about who really cares for me too. We grew up together, so he's basically part of my family."

"Like a brother?"

Tifa shrugged. "Not really. You don't have to be blood-related to be family."

Rufus scanned her wanly and nodded once. He loosened the ribbon around his wrist and slipped himself off then walked to one of the wet benches. He sat, hunched forward, then sat up straight after a short moment. The sudden change in his mannerisms had Tifa wondering if there was something she said that upset him.

Rufus turned to her again. "You miss him?"

Tifa nodded. "Yeah." She took off the ribbon from her own wrist and rolled it neatly around her palm while she took a seat on a nearby bench, a good distance away from Rufus. "Very much," she sighed. She turned to look at him again. "You kinda remind me of him, you know?"

Rufus scoffed and grimaced. "Figured that. But I'm not Cloud."

"I know, b—"

"And don't ever say that again," Rufus interjected brashly.

Tifa stretched her lips to the side and raised her eyebrows while slowly turning away. "Sorry."

There was that awkward silence again.

Tifa exhaled loudly. "So, what have you been up to?"

It took a few beats more before Rufus answered. "It's the campaign season for Shinra. So that means my father goes from places to places to promote the company. He brings me along to those places, for 'exposure,' he said. And for 'experience.'"

"And were you learning anything?"

Rufus shrugged, eyes still forward at the lone bush studded with purple sylleblossoms. "Maybe. I learned not to leave my bodyguards' sides in case Sephiroth comes again."

Tifa's eyes rounded. "The event at Nibelheim Institute…"

"Yeah," Rufus looked at her. "That was part of the campaign."

Tifa nodded. "I remember now. You were there."

"And I survived, just like you and Cloud did."

"How many were we?"

Rufus shrugged again. "No way of knowing."

And he left it at that. Tifa had more questions with the need to know so much more about that incident. It turned her life in a completely new direction, and she deserved to know more. But Rufus did not seem to know any better. Or maybe nobody really told him everything.

"This campaign season," Tifa began again, not wanting them to revert to the awkward silence. "How long does it usually last?"

"It starts every April and ends in June," Rufus replied. "The touring, anyway."

"What about school?"

Rufus smirked and looked away. "I still go to school. They give me special projects if I miss anything."

"You'll miss my birthday."

Rufus spun back to her with furrowed eyebrows. Even Tifa was surprised at what she blurted out, widening her eyes at him before quickly looking away. She didn't want to tell him either, else he might use it against her, the sly boy that he was.

"When's your birthday?" Rufus asked.

Tifa pinched her lips before turning back around and quickly replied, "May three." She thought she might as well just tell him anyway.

Rufus grinned slightly and nodded slowly. "Right. That's only a few days away."

Tifa gasped. "It is?"

Rufus nodded. "I should know. We'll be in Gold Saucer that day. For the campaign."

Tifa allowed a small smile on her lips. She was reminded of Gold Saucer again with her parents. "That's fun," she said.

Rufus shook his head. "No. Not really. It's work."

"You're just a kid to call that work."

"Then you don't know my father."

Tifa sighed. "He does seem strict."

Rufus scoffed. "'Seem,' says she."

"I barely know him, so I can't really say for sure. It would be unfair," she retorted. Not wanting to worsen things again, she decided to break the ice before it freezes the space between them. "When is your birthday?"

Rufus grinned. He then stood and wordlessly reached a hand for her. "We better head back."

It was one of those orders he was throwing at her, she thought as she eyed his hand. But then Marle's voice echoed in her head. "Reasonable," it said, as the winds grew warmer and the sun hotter. It was almost noon and she would be called for lunch soon. So she handed him the other end of the red ribbon.

* * *

.

.

.

Monday rolled by with her usual school-day habit— go to school with the lady in the suit, go home, eat dinner, do her homework, drink hot cocoa Marle prepared for her, and not seeing Rufus.

It was Wednesday that made the difference in her week. It was her birthday, but she chose not to tell anyone, not even Marle. It would not make any difference, nothing to wish for because all hopes of them coming true burned down in Nibelheim and was torn away from her by Vincent and the Highwinds. It was something she wanted to keep to herself and she had already told Rufus, albeit unwittingly. That was enough.

They were sitting in the dining room, eating their dinner with the evening news on tv. Tifa never really paid mind on the news, what with the same thing being reported every time. She hated the ridiculously-senseless-but-overly-hyped entertainment segment the most, so much she made sure to be out of the room before it started. But not this time. That particular evening, Rufus was being shown.

She was about to leave the room when his name was mentioned. She saw Marle turn to her over her shoulder while she stared at the screen as the reporter talked in the background while showing Rufus canvassing the shelves of a souvenir shop in Gold Saucer. He was wearing a dark blue coat over his white shirt and pale grey pants. She remembered it more clearly now, that day in Nibelheim when he came to visit with his father. He was wearing the same exact outfit and nothing about him changed.

"How did your son Rufus pull through from the Nibelheim incident?" the female reporter asked President Shinra once the camera returned to him.

"It wasn't easy for my Rufus. It was particularly hard to recuperate from the trauma of the incident, something that we also condole with the other victims. But he is returning to form quite well with friends, school, and bringing him here in Gold Saucer especially."

The reporter chuckled. "I can see he's spending a lot of time in the souvenir shop. Is he having fun?"

"Oh yes, very."

Tifa's eyes blanched for a fraction of second.

"Has he gone through any other complications aside from the trauma?" The reporter added very casually, seemingly to mask the prying motive.

Tifa felt her heart skip in her chest.

President Shinra caught on, but brushed it with a hard chuckle. "No," he said, and Tifa's brows creased. "Thankfully my Rufus did not suffer from any other complications."

"It's a miracle, then," the reporter added, and everything else after that faded in the background as Tifa went to her room.

Despite that, it was the most morose and uneventful birthday she ever had.

When the weekend arrived, it was Rufus who woke her up again. This time, the tapping was urgent and louder. And this time, Tifa did not hesitate to get up and open the window for him.

"Do I really have to wake you up everytime?" he chided once he had jumped inside.

"It's not noon yet, okay?" Tifa retorted.

Rufus stared at her for a moment then grinned. "I have something for you, since I missed your birthday." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small white box with "GS" etched on the cover.

Tifa glanced up at him with a slow smile building in her lips. There was something different about him, the way he gleamed in anticipation as she took the box from his hand. She looked at it and tilted her head when she opened the box and her eyes widened instantly.

Inside was a silver bracelet with a small chocobo charm hanging on the chain.

Tifa's mouth hung open as she glanced back at Rufus. He chuckled.

"Happy birthday," he said.

"Oh!" Tifa quickly placed the box— with the bracelet still inside— on her bed and ran to the window to hold her hands out as water began to pour out again. Rufus chucked more loudly behind her.

"Hey!" she yelled at him. "Not funny!"

"That means you like it!"

There was a buzzing sound that stopped as fleetly as it came.

Tifa huffed as she turned her head away from him, pressing her lips into a white slash to suppress the burning heat in her cheeks.

"You do like it, do you?"

Tifa pouted and looked down on the wet ground where her hands were holding out. "Yeah. What if I do?"

"Say the magic words, then!"

Tifa rolled her eyes. There he was again, bossing her around. She slowly turned to face him. "Thank you."

Rufus's hands were in his pockets, his grin the widest she had seen on him so far. He tipped his head to the bracelet. "Well? Why don't you wear it?"

Tifa's narrowed eyes were fixed at him while she approached her bed then took the bracelet from the box. She only broke from her glare when she wore his gift around her right wrist then smiled at how pretty it looked on her. She giggled and glanced at Rufus again, all of her irritation suddenly gone. "Really. Thank you."

Rufus nodded. "Got it from Gold Saucer. Took me a while to choose that, so you better wear it all the time."

Tifa giggled again. "You didn't have to tell me that one."

"Just saying. If you don't wear it, I'll be mad."

Tifa stuck her tongue out before eyeing her bracelet, particularly the chocobo hanging from it. It looked unrealistically far from the real thing, but it was cute, like it was modeled after a chocobo chick. She could not stop looking at it.

"Why did you choose a chocobo?" She asked.

Rufus shrugged. "So you'll remember the difference between me and a chocobo."

She whirled back to him. "You mean Cloud?"

Rufus' eye twitched. "Yeah. That."

Tifa lowered her arm. "Sure. You're nothing like him."

"I'm better."

Tifa playfully mimicked zipping her mouth shut.

Rufus rolled his eyes. "And so…" He looked away. "So you can also stop moping about him."

Tifa's face fell and her breath hitched.

Rufus quickly gestured at her arm. "There. There's your chocobo. You can stop missing him now."

Tifa looked at her bracelet again, taking more of her time to figure out why Rufus said that. It did nothing to remind her of Cloud, and she was certain it would do nothing to allay her longing to see her friend again. But the bracelet, the chocobo, the time spent, and the thought— all of those would remind her of Rufus instead and how he tried his best to make something out of her birthday. She smiled and shook her head, more at herself.

"Hey, Rufus?"

"What?"

"Wanna walk with me?"

Rufus' face relaxed. He smiled, and then he grinned. "Sure. But first, breakfast."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter didn't bore you! It will lead to more promising and exciting (and dramatically painful) things, I promise!


	4. Gloves and Armors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naya is back! Thank you so much for beta-reading and I am so glad my prayers worked and you like this chapter! (lol) And as for the rest of you guys, I hope you will enjoy this chapter! 😁

Rufus was never good at following orders. Well, he would need to have a good reason for the said order before he decides for himself if it was good enough for his consideration. Everything must always be up to him and nobody could ever tell him what to do— no one but his father. Even then, he would very much rather weigh things on his own before he follows through.

That was how he would like to think of it, anyway.

So when Marle told him one morning that he was not allowed to visit Tifa for a while, he only stared at her without an affirmation or an objection. He simply and silently brushed her off.

That afternoon, he was already standing outside Tifa's window. It had already been opened, with the wind breezing through and the curtains fluttering in it. He heard a rough, wet cough inside, followed by faint wheezes. He went in.

Tifa was sitting up on her bed, her blanket wrapped around her, and crumpled tissues scattered around her. Her nose was red and swollen, her scarlet eyes pink and puffy, and her long black hair unusually disheveled. Her rumpled sight was a testament of how the night had been cruel to her. She turned to him the moment his feet hit the floor and looked at him as if she was about to cry.

"What's wrong with you?" Rufus teased.

Tifa sniffled and replied painfully with her voice blocked by her sinusitis. "Cold. Or flu. I don't know."

Rufus pressed his lips tightly together and carefully approached her side.

She held up a hand. "Don't come closer!"

Rufus stopped. "Why?"

"You might catch it."

Rufus harrumphed. "I won't."

"You don't know that."

"I'm stronger than you think."

Tifa shook her head and lowered her hand.

Rufus smirked, pulled up a chair, and sat. "Are you taking anything for that?"

Tifa shook her head. "Not yet. Marle's medicines have expired."

"Then she should get new ones."

Tifa nodded. "She said she is going to."

Rufus shrugged. "When?"

Tifa sniffled a little more. "Marle isn't finished with her chores yet. She said she'll get them after."

Rufus sighed loudly, his chin up , and his gaze imperious as if he had quickly judged Marles incapability to take care of Tifa. "This is unbelievable," he said. "How much longer is she going to make you wait?"

"It's okay, Rufus. I can still wait. Besides, she already gave me hot soup and warm water."

Rufus raised an eyebrow. "Are you feeling any better?"

"A little," Tifa replied weakly.

He huffed as he gave Tifa a once-over. She turned away from him before coughing again, this time, more thickly and arduously than before that he almost thought she could no longer catch her breath. Rufus shot up from his chair, muttering "this is stupid," and headed to the window.

"Rufus?"

He was already outside, looking at Tifa through the curtains who was throwing him an inquiring look.

"I'll be back, don't worry," he said.

"Where are you going?"

"Find you some medicines. Can't stand you looking like that."

Tifa frowned, looking offended. "Like what?"

_So weak, so frail, so hurt, so…_ "Sick," he said before sauntering away.

* * *

He came back with a small white basket a few moments later where he tossed in packed medicines taken from his own medicine cabinet. They had several, maybe even too much that Rufus figured taking a few from their stash would be barely conspicuous. It might not show through his father's strong and stiff composure, but he was actually quite the hypochondriac, always fearing that a single sneeze could be his cause of death. He obsessed over his own mortality so much that he made sure Shinra had its own pharmacy to secure his personal supply of curatives in case that one day he might need one. Rufus had always found it ridiculous.

Tifa stared at the basket with wide eyes when Rufus placed it on her bedside table. He pulled up a chair again and began to rummage through the packs and bottles.

"I gargle with this one to get rid of sore throat," he said after pulling out a blue bottle and placing it on the table. "This one I drink to get rid of the cold."

"You don't exactly get rid of cold," Tifa said after blowing her nose with a tissue. "It just disappears by itself."

Rufus shifted his eyes to her and smirked. "That's what you think."

Tifa narrowed her eyes and tilted her head curiously. Rufus carried on with the basket.

"This one I take for the headache, which I'm sure you're having right now," Rufus continued while pulling out a pack of green pills.

Tifa nodded. "Yeah. I know those. My parents used to take them."

"Here," Rufus placed everything on her bedside table. "Drink them now."

"All of them?"

Rufus nodded. "You're supposed to take each of them every after a four-hour interval."

Tifa tilted her head in inquiry.

"It means you take one now and then take the next one after four hours."

"Oh. Okay."

Rufus watched as Tifa slowly took one of the tablets and studied it in her hand. She took a deep breath and raised her eyes on him.

"You're not supposed to be here," she said.

He shrugged. "But I already am."

"You might get sick, too."

"You haven't even thanked me yet."

"Thank you. Now, can you go?"

Rufus smirked. "Not very grateful."

Tifa gave him a wry look. "Seriously, Rufus?"

He chuckled. "Fine," he stood. "If you want me out, I'm out."

"Just for today, anyway. Just… let me get better first."

It was then that he gave her a real smile. "Okay, Tifa. I'll wait."

* * *

Like a curse she must have cast on him through her foreboding, Rufus was also ailing with the cold the next day.

He tried not to show it at first, even when he woke up with a splitting headache and a clogged nose. He went straight to his medicine cabinet to grab the same pills and tablets he had recommended to Tifa and swallowed the one for his sinusitis. His nanny came into his room just when he was heading back to lay down again and her face quickly fell into concern. He was then told to stay in bed while she promptly brought in a bowl of hot porridge, a pitcher of water with lemon slices (a combination he dreadfully hated), and a plate of fruits.

It was a quiet day of resting, albeit his sighing need to leave his room and head straight to Tifa's even when his body (and his nanny) wouldn't allow it. It was peaceful until it wasn't when his father barged in.

Rufus opened his eyes when he heard his father's footsteps inside but he didn't move an inch. His head felt too heavy to turn or lift anyway. He squinted as his sight adjusted to the light from the wide windows and his brows creased briefly and weakly. What did his father want this time?

"Rufus," his father called peevedly. "This foolishness with that girl is getting out of hand."

Rufus rolled his eyes and groaned in a rebellious reply.

"Rufus," his father scolded, more firmly and tawdrily. "You're supposed to make acquaintances, not the other way around. And you know why I said that?"

Rufus remained silent. His father's footsteps drew closer to the side of his bed.

"I want _you_ to be the one holding sway in this association. We have talked about this. Do I need to remind you why I took her in here in the first place?"

Rufus glared at his direction, a mettle he afforded for himself with his back on his father.

"I want you to be in charge of her," his father continued. "You're supposed to build a future rapport with this girl who can hurt you. How can she work for you if you are letting her have you in the palm of her hand?"

"She doesn't," Rufus muttered.

"She doesn't?" his father insinuated bitingly. "Do you think I don't know that little gift you bought in Gold Saucer? Or the frequent visits to the fountain? She's not a playmate, son. She's a potential foe. _Your_ foe. And she will continue to be if you don't assert your authority. Do you understand?"

Rufus was clenching his jaws, his fingers tingling and burning.

"Do you understand?" his father repeated more loudly.

"Yes, Sir," Rufus replied through his teeth.

"Good. You make sure to remember that or I _will_ make sure that you do."

Rufus waited until his father stepped out of the room before sitting up, huffing and scowling. The only thing he hated more than his father was how powerless he felt against him. He couldn't do anything, not for himself or Tifa. What if he wanted to see more of her? What if he didn't want to command over her? What if he just wanted to do what they had been doing for the past weeks? What was so wrong about those?

He growled and screamed and threw a pillow across the room with a flashing bolt from his fingertips that violently thrust aside everything on its way. He was heaving more deeply and loudly, his head felt like it was going to explode, and his cheeks hurt from so much biting. He wanted to see Tifa more than he did that morning.

* * *

The medicines from the basket did miracles on her and Tifa was feeling so much better than she did the day before. It was a wonder why Marle wasn't as happy as she thought she would be and why Rufus wasn't visiting her this time of all days.

Instead, Vincent did.

He was sitting in their living room across Marle when she stepped out of her room after she was called for. He looked just as she had remembered him with the exact same black suit, hair, composure, and attentive eyes as he peered at her.

"Come sit down with us, Tifa," Marle beckoned. Tifa sat beside her on the couch.

"Mister Vincent," Tifa greeted and nodded.

"How are you doing?" Vincent nodded back.

Tifa blinked. "Good. I guess."

"She was riddled with cold until this morning," Marle said in a swift defense when Vincent raised an eyebrow.

Tifa nodded. "I was. Rufus gave me medicines and that's how I got better. I'll thank him later."

Vincent tilted his head with a greater sense of interest. "Rufus? The President's son?"

Tifa nodded again. "Yes. Him."

"They are getting acquainted quite well, Rufus and Tifa," Marle added. "He's been visiting her, making her his friend."

Vincent nodded slowly. Tifa wasn't sure if he was taking it all seriously or if he was understanding it differently the way she could not. He suddenly reached into his coat and pulled out a brown silk drawstring bag. He handed it to Tifa.

"These are yours," he said.

Tifa opened it and fished out a pair of what looked like leather gloves. No, not leather, she quickly observed. They were of different material, something between leather and rubber. She brushed her thumb against it to feel the texture.

"They are gloves that will help you with your powers," Vincent said. "They are designed to keep the water from flowing out. I understand it's quite hard to control it at times."

"Yeah. Thanks."

"It can absorb the magic and control the flow for you. It will give you one less thing to worry about."

Tifa slipped her hand into one. It felt a little big and slightly loose around her fingers, but the smooth finish looked tasteful on her hand. She shifted her attention from the gloves to Vincent. "Does Rufus get a pair, too?"

Vincent exhaled audibly. "Perhaps in time, he will."

Tifa smiled. "Great!"

Vincent forced a smile before he continued. "I must also warn you to be more careful. We have received reports of Sephiroth in Kalm. And where Sephiroth is, Hojo will most likely follow. He's hoping to chance upon you and the others like you."

"You mean Cloud?"

"Yes. And the two more children."

Tifa's eyes widened and she almost jumped from her seat. "There are more of us?!"

"Yes. Also living separately and far apart from each other."

"Who are they?"

Vincent leaned back on his chair. "A girl, Aerith. And another boy, Zack."

"From school!" Tifa exclaimed and laughed heartily as she turned to Marle then back at Vincent. She remembered them, the two nice kids from the higher level who led the event that day, and she was more than happy to know they had also survived. "They're both from my old school! What kind of magic do they have?"

Vincent seemed to hesitate at first and shifted on his seat before answering. "Aerith holds the power of light. That means she can heal, but that's all we know about the element for now. Zack has the power of earth, a rare power only heard from a legendary summon known as the Titan."

"Where are they now?"

Vincent cleared his throat. "That, I'm afraid, is classified. Trust me when I say that it's better if you are unaware. But they are safe."

"And Cloud? He's safe too?"

"Yes."

Tifa smiled briefly and coughed a laugh. She cast her eyes down. "Is that really all you can tell me about him?"

The silence from Vincent was apprehensive. Tifa was preparing herself for the possibility that she would never have an answer for it unless she sought Cloud herself.

"He's doing good," Vincent suddenly said. Tifa lifted her gaze back at him. "He's happy with the Highwinds. They are taking good care of him."

"Really?"

Vincent nodded. "Missus Highwind especially delights in him. Mister Highwind is trying to teach him about rockets. He's perfectly safe and happy where he is."

"Rockets," Tifa repeated in a whisper. "Never thought he'll like rockets."

Vincent remained silent.

"Uhm," Tifa bounced on her seat. "Are you going to visit him anytime soon?"

Vincent nodded. "I might check on him."

Tifa nodded back. "Can you tell him something for me?"

"Sure."

"Can you tell him—" Tifa stopped. Well, she didn't know what she wanted to tell him if she had to be honest with herself. She wanted to _see_ him instead. She wanted to talk to him, to personally ask him how he was doing. She wanted him to meet Rufus too, and maybe Cloud would defend her whenever Rufus decided to be a rude or pushy boy to her again. She always wondered what Cloud would say about Rufus when he does get to meet him, though she was certain they would still end up being friends. She would force them if she had to.

"Tell him what?" Vincent prodded.

"Uhm, tell him—" Tifa sighed,"—that I can't wait to see him again."

* * *

Rufus didn't show up the next day either.

Tifa woke up earlier than she usually did with the dawn still crisp and clear with the sun spying behind the clouds, half-expecting the impatient tapping on the window. She sat up slowly, bending her knees to her chest and rested her arms on them as she turned to check. She sighed.

Afternoon came and she was still alone without her usual peeving company. Her mind went back to the things she said from their last encounter. Last time, he brought her medicine because she was sick. She later learned that he had caught the cold too when Marle caught her glancing at their door too often, hoping to see him barge in. It was just as she had suspected.

"I didn't think to tell you," Marle said when Tifa peered at her. The older woman was nonchalant as she sipped her tea from her cup like her decision was the most normal thing to do. "I didn't think you'd look for him."

Tifa didn't reply, she didn't know how. The mansion had more rules and restrictions than Marle had initially warned her with and now she was beginning to suspect that she was not allowed to look for Rufus either. Seeing him would be entirely up to him whether she wanted his visits or not. And she normally didn't. Except that Vincent's last visit was something she couldn't wait to tell him about, and she had been itching to since yesterday afternoon.

So that evening, just after she made sure Marle went to bed, Tifa tied her red ribbon around her hair, slipped her gloves on, and snuck out through her window. She headed straight to the mansion and glanced up at the windows. She remembered Rufus telling her once, during those times spent by the fountain, that his room was on the second floor. The President was not around, as betoken by Marle's constant presence in their quarters that day, so that would mean there was only Rufus around the second floor. It wasn't hard to find which room- it was the lit window in the otherwise sleepy and dim mansion. She picked a pebble from the lawn and threw it at the window.

He must not have heard it, she thought, so she picked up another pebble and hurled it at his window again. Shadows started to move inside and she smiled when Rufus appeared. He frowned at her as she waved back. He opened his window.

"What do you want?" he called at her callously. It didn't go through Tifa, however, as she kept waving at him.

"Get down here!" she called back.

Rufus' eyes widened and pressed a finger against his lips, gesturing at her to be quiet. He quickly turned around and a few minutes later, he was unlocking the glass door in front of her.

"You have to be quiet," he whispered to her.

She grinned. "You have a curfew?"

Rufus didn't answer that and grimaced instead. "Follow me."

Tifa trailed behind him as they sprinted through the terrace at the side of the structure and climbed up a metal staircase. They went through three flights of stairs before they reached the rooftop.

She had only heard about "the" rooftop from the buzzing helpers around the mansion and Marle who mentioned it a few times in passing. Tifa only brushed it off usually because she never thought to visit it anyway- it was part of the mansion and therefore off-limits. So when she finally did though thanks to Rufus, she gasped.

It as white and spotless, which was amazing in itself given the weather it endured. It had its own shade held up by logs of light wood, and a white cushioned chair framed with wooden weaves hung from it. A white hammock swayed languidly against the evening wind, and pots of green plants accentuated the place in the right spots. There were tables with candles on them and chairs with pillows she initially thought to be couches.

Rufus stood by the hanging chair and turned around to face her. "What do you want?" he asked again.

When Tifa looked at him, how he appeared so casual and unamazed as she was in his gray striped pajamas and lounge slippers, it was only when it truly dawned to her how this was his territory. This mansion with a rooftop that she could only imagine in her wildest dreams was Shinra's. His.

She suddenly felt different. Little.

Tifa cast her head down and bit her lip.

"Tifa?" he called to her gently.

She cleared her throat. "I just wanted to tell you that Mister Vincent came yesterday."

"Vincent?"

Tifa raised her gaze back at him. His eyebrow was raised.

"Yeah. The social worker who took us to the orphanage."

"Oh."

"He gave me these." She lifted her gloved hands. "He said these will help me stop from leaking. Keep it in check for me and stuff."

Rufus's eye twitched. "Leaking?"

"Yeah. Like when our powers pour out without meaning to."

"Right." Rufus flickered his eyes at the gloves. "Where did he get those?"

"Don't know." Tifa lowered her arms. "Didn't ask."

"It's important to ask that."

Tifa tilted her head slightly. "Why?"

Rufus shrugged. "What if I need to know?"

"Then you can ask him yourself."

Rufus scoffed. "You were already talking to him. Would have been useful if you asked him instead while you still could."

Tifa narrowed her eyes. "You're unusually grumpy today."

Rufus pouted and turned his back on her. "I'm not."

Tifa smiled and skipped playfully to his side. The intimidation of the whole place was gone the moment he started his childish pouting, a side of him that was more familiar to her. Because she instantly knew that something was bothering him and she caught it. She leaned forward to take a better look at him.

"Hey," she said. "Want to give this a try? See if I can touch you without hurting you?"

Rufus gave her a sideway glance, still pouting.

Tifa hovered a hand on his arm and looked at him expectantly. He wasn't moving away nor did he show her any sign of protest. He was just looking at her, maybe waiting for something to happen. Maybe waiting for her.

So she landed her hand on his arm, gently at first. He didn't flinch or pulled away. She tightened her grip gradually and smiled when nothing happened. She giggled when she squeezed him.

"It works!" She looked at him. "See how that worked?"

Rufus' eyes moved from her arm to her gaze.

"We don't have to use the red ribbon now. We can hold each other like this."

Rufus blinked. "Only you can, though," he said sullenly.

"Hm?"

"I don't have those gloves," he snarled at her and pulled his arm away from her grip. "I still can't touch you."

"Hey!" Tifa reached for his arm again. "You can't get yourself off me like that from now on. Not if I can hold you like this."

Rufus' frown dug deeper as he looked away.

"Hey." Tifa tugged his arm gently. "Hey, Rufus."

"What?"

"Why don't you ask for your own gloves?" Tifa suggested. "I can ask Mister Vincent for you. He said you'll have yours someday."

"I don't think so."

Tifa tipped herself backward. "Huh?"

Rufus took a deep breath. "I don't think I'll get my own pair."

"We can try asking."

This time, Rufus pried himself gently away from her. He turned to her with a slacked expression, shoulders drooped, and a wistful smirk on his lips. "I doubt my father would allow it."

"Why won't he? It will help you!"

His eyes were more telling of something more— an enigmatic truth. And quickly, Tifa was reminded of Marle's equally cryptic warning.

_I just don't want you to find yourself being used by him._

And perhaps, she was right.

Rufus didn't want to tell her. Why would he? She would push him away if he did, and he would rather keep her outside than let her in where the painful truth laid— that he was meant to reign over her using his powers, and wearing gloves like the one she had would keep him from using lightning to hurt her and take control of her fear. It would contradict what his father wanted in the first place.

And the more painful truth was how much he wanted those gloves, too.

"That's just the kind of man he is, I guess."

Tifa raised a doubtful eyebrow. "Really?"

"Like I said, you don't know him."

"Okay, whatever." Tifa turned around and began walking away.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

Tifa whirled around back to him with an innocent look. "Nowhere! I'm just going to sit on this hammock."

Rufus relaxed. "Oh."

It took Tifa a moment to find her balance on the hammock when she sat. She shrieked when she almost flipped over which made Rufus stride to her side until she steadied without his help. Rufus watched her as she allowed the hammock to swing her mildly back and forth, her head tilted up the night sky.

"So many stars tonight," she murmured. Rufus followed her gaze. He was still trying to figure out what was so fascinating about the stars when Tifa interrupted the silence.

"You know, Mister Vincent told me there are more kids like us," she said. He fixed his stare on the stars. "The nice kids from my old school survived. Their names are Aerith and Zack. He said they also have powers. Aerith's is light and she heals. Zack's is earth."

"Where are they now?"

Tifa shrugged. "He wouldn't say. But he did tell me Cloud is okay."

Rufus tore from the sky to look at her and study her demeanour. She smiled at the moon.

"Mister and Missus Highwind are taking care of him really well. Mister Vincent also said he's happy. Never felt better when I heard that."

Her eyes were soft and her voice was calm when she spoke, as if she found some bliss in the sky. And he had no part in all of it, Rufus realized. She wasn't in such a peaceful state because of him.

Maybe except for one thing.

"Do you like it here?"

Tifa finally looked at him. "Hm?"

_The mansion_ , he wanted to ask her, but he was too afraid of the answer. "The rooftop," he told her instead.

She drew a wider smile. "I love it here."

"Can you find your way here alone?"

Tifa nodded. "Yeah. It's easy."

"Good." Rufus pulled the red ribbon down from her hair. Tifa yelped in pain from the spark of lightning and protest while he swiftly lifted the ribbon in the space between them. "Hang this ribbon on your window everytime you want to see me."

Tifa moaned while rubbing the back of her head from the burn of his touch. "Did you really have to do that?"

"Tifa. Will you?"

"Fine, okay." Tifa frowned at the ribbon. "And then what?"

"And then we can see each other here. Same time every evening."

Tifa huffed and glanced up at him. "Why not the fountain?"

"So you'll get lost over and over?" he reasoned. He had grown fond of the fountain too, if he had to be honest. And there was nothing wrong about the place. Except for the meddling staff who might raise reports of them together to his father. He didn't want to have the talk they had that morning again. "Forget the fountain. This place is better. I can tell you think so, too."

Tifa slowly nodded. "Yeah. Kind of. But, what if you don't want to see me?"

Rufus smirked. "I'll always want to see you."

Tifa smiled back, the one merit he had always wanted from her. She agreed to it and held on to her promise. As did Rufus.

He would look out his window every night to watch out for her red ribbon. He noticed that she always hung it on weekend evenings. She would hang it on her birthdays too, as well as holidays like Christmas.

However, there were days when she didn't know he wasn't around. She would climb to the rooftop to find herself alone and realize too late that he was not there to see the ribbon or know she was there to see him. Tifa would then take the time for herself to admire the scenery of the sky in whatever phase it decided to be in, usually on the hammock that had grown to be her favorite part of the place. She never told Rufus about those days.

During one of those days however, five years later, Rufus did see the ribbon.

Tifa was swinging on the hammock, her head turned away from him and watching her stars. She rolled on her side to him when she heard his footsteps and slid off onto her feet.

Then it hit him for the first time, the moment she turned around to him with a smile and called for his name with her light voice. That was when he realized he had never seen someone so beautiful. Not under the stars and the moonlight. Not with the gleam in her eyes, her bubbly smile, and her hair that fell so gracefully in every turn.

He stood there frigid like the idiot that he was, heart freezing then pounding in his chest, staring at her as she sauntered towards him excitedly. He blinked back to their present when she held his hand with her gloved ones and squeezed it. She always did that when she was happy to see him, her own version of "embracing" him.

Tifa scanned him with impressed eyes, seemingly admiring the uniform he was wearing for school— black coat, striped green tie on white buttoned shirt, and black slacks. She giggled. "You look sharp."

Rufus cleared his throat and shuffled on his soles. "Thanks."

"I'm really glad to see you here, Rufus," she said, beaming at him. "I'm really happy you made it."

And he could only respond by gazing at her, his eyes refusing to look at anything else. He felt his fingertips burning and he was sure a spark slipped through.

* * *

A/N: Let the teenage years begin!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Let the teenage years begin!


	5. Their Hearts at Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so very grateful of Naya for making this chapter 1000000x better! Thank you for never ever getting tired of beta-reading for me, and for taking care of this fic!

It was one of those lazy afternoons, one when Rufus was reading a book with his feet propped on a chair across him, alone in the kitchen as he set his cup of tea carefully back on its saucer. His father was away again, supposedly attending another one of his educational campaigns in the middle of summer break. Rufus had lost track of his activities so long ago that he couldn't care less if his father was suddenly building another school in one of Midgar's sectors. He was getting bored of the campaign's repetitiveness and lack of creativity. The man was getting old and boring, and he wondered if the people were genuinely happy or even remotely interested in his crusade. Rufus had better ideas that were starting to collect dust deep in his memory. The Presidential seat could not come to him fast enough.

Rufus flicked his eyes from his book to the window of Marle's quarters where Tifa usually hung her ribbon. It wasn't there, but the lights in her room were on and he caught movements across the room. The curtains were fluttering against the wind and getting in the way of his sight of her. She seemed to freeze and looked in his direction. She waved gleefully and he could make out her smile even from across the lawn. He stared back at her and raised his book in greeting. She began walking around again.

Tifa hung the red ribbon that evening and he came to the rooftop as usual. She was sitting on one of the chairs with a notebook in hand and scribbling. She looked up and smiled when he sat on a nearby chair.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Tracking days of our time here," she replied a pitch higher, then showed him the pages she was working on. There were dates written and time— ten o'clock in the evening it always said, with three to seven days of interval in between.

"Why?"

"Gives me an idea when I can hang the red ribbon again." Tifa retrieved the notebook to her lap and closed it.

"You still don't have a phone?"

"Marle is still saving up for it. Things are busy, sure, but the money is always just enough." She sighed and scanned him. "I'm actually surprised you're here."

Rufus shrugged with downturned lips. "He didn't look for me, so that probably means he didn't need me to come with him."

Tifa nodded. She had stopped prying on his and his father's activities sometime ago, and rightfully so. There was barely anything interesting about them. Her eyes suddenly beamed and he stared back at her, tried as he might to look away instead.

"Are you excited?" she asked.

"For the party?"

Tifa nodded.

"Not really," he replied bluntly. "You know I'm not really fond of them."

"That's because you're sick and tired of them," she jibed. "I think I'm more excited about it. Even when I only get to watch from here."

"You always say that. Every year," Rufus said. "And I would say, 'if only you can switch places with me.'"

Tifa chuckled in her throat. "It's okay. I'm content just by watching what people wear, who will arrive, what music they will play, who will dance…"

Rufus blinked as he listened to her drone on about the party dreamily while he could only think and want of the possibilities if he could bring her with him instead. Perhaps then will the party be enjoyable. "Maybe it just looks different when you're not in it," he said.

Tifa shrugged. "Yeah. Or maybe it just feels different when you're in it." She lifted her eyes back at him. "What _does_ it feel like?"

Rufus looked away, at the sky above where the lawn was. His father's parties were usually held at the lawn where tables were set and wooden beams with strings of lights were posted while the gazebo stood in the middle as the centerpiece where the bands played. He harrumphed. "Fake."

"It feels fake?"

"Yes. Exactly."

There was a short contemplative silence. "Why?"

"Because there was never anything to celebrate about. It was always about his campaign, the exposure, building connections… People come not only because they were invited, but they always had a purpose. They always do when my father is involved. And everyone expects me to stand in the same position, so they also try to win my impression."

Tifa smiled, humming in her throat. "You already sound like a businessman, you know."

Rufus turned back to her and smirked. "I should."

"And you will. You'll be the best one there is, I can tell."

"Better than my father?"

Her smile grew wider "I bet!"

Rufus chuckled louder and leaned back on the couch, watching her watch him. "And you'll be by my side?"

Tifa shrugged. "That's what your dad wants, right? That's why I'm here."

He felt a tingle slip his fingers. "Is that what you want, though?"

Tifa smiled teasingly. "If you'll stop being mean to me, then…"

"Then?"

"Maybe."

Rufus grinned. "You drive a hard bargain."

Tifa giggled and stuck a tongue out. "I only learned from the best."

"And I'm the best."

"Yeah. Sure. I know."

They ceased into silence again when Tifa tilted her head up to the sky. The stars were not around and he wondered if she had been waiting long for them. Despite that, the waiting she was doing, she was still smiling. Rufus wondered again and he wanted to ask her this time if she was smiling because he was there, waiting for the stars with her. But he was afraid of the answer because part of him knew she was smiling for something else. Or someone else.

He sniffled and shifted on his seat, lowering his gaze from her to his fists on his lap. "Are you free tomorrow?"

Tifa whirled her head to him. "Yeah. Why?"

"My father might not be around. Wanna do this again? You don't need to hang that ribbon."

Tifa smiled and nodded. "Sure. I'll be here."

* * *

Rufus would soon realize that he was wrong about his own forecast of his father's activity.

The next morning, just as he was finishing his buttered toast and apple juice, he was being called for by one of his father's Turks.

Tifa was also there when he arrived at his father's office. She was standing stiff and paid him no glance as she kept her composure formal and her eyes forward. He pretended not to be surprised by her presence there either and stood at the other side of the room.

And then there was another boy with them, around his age or maybe a little older. He had short black hair and thick round eyeglasses, standing formally like he and Tifa were, though he could already tell this one was not used to the Shinra decorum. Not yet, anyway. His eyes seemed kind, too kind, yet they were betraying his attempt to be compliant with the stiff air. Smart, Rufus thought of him, but a little too soft.

His father was standing in front of them, arms folded behind him, lips curled up in a businesslike smile.

"First thing of why I called all of you here," his father said. "Tifa will be joining you at the Junon Academy."

Rufus restrained from moving his eyes to Tifa just to see how she reacted to the news. He slid his hands into his pockets instead. There was that tingle again.

"Reports of her outstanding performance in her current school have reached me and I find it only befitting that she be given an opportunity for a better education. It will serve her well in the future, yes?"

_You mean to serve_ me _better in the future_ , Rufus wanted to say. He only nodded.

"Everything will be paid for and taken care of. All you will need to do is to attend your classes and pass them. I will expect more. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir," Tifa replied.

"Another bright mind who will be joining you two is Reeve Tuesti," he gestured at the third kid in the room. "He is currently Shinra's top scholar with a more than promising potential in the fields of science and engineering. Junon Academy will do him well and a position is already waiting for him at Shinra's Electric Company."

Reeve chuckled softly and sheepishly scratched his head. "I still can't thank you enough for this, President Shinra."

His father scoffed. "And I trust you will do very well with this opportunity. Get to know my son Rufus and his—" he paused. "—hmm… friend Tifa, and try your best to be familiar with them because they will be your schoolmates for the incoming school year."

"Understood, Sir."

"Snacks are waiting for you three on the patio. Dismissed. Except for you, Rufus. I'd like to have a word."

Rufus moved closer to his father when Reeve and Tifa left the room. He maintained a straight face and kept himself guarded as he braced himself for what his father could suddenly want from him this time.

"How is your lightning?" his father asked.

"Under control," Rufus replied.

"Good. Are you practicing?"

Rufus took a deep breath. "Yes. In the lab."

"Have you reached thundaga?"

"Almost."

His father nodded. "Keep it up and you will be more powerful in no time. Against the Wuataians, especially."

"I know."

"I heard that their princess is going to your school this year," his father said, slightly grimacing. "I'm not too certain what they are playing at just yet, but it's always better to be careful. Assert your power and use it when necessary."

"I don't think that's allowed."

"Maybe not fair, but it is certainly allowed. Nothing can or will ever prevent you from doing things in Junon Academy."

Rufus hummed against his throat. "Is that all?"

"Just one more thing. The party for the campaign has been moved to another date."

Rufus' brows creased in the middle. "Why?"

"There had been restraints in the schedules caused by nothing more than some miscalculations. The party will be held on May three instead. Make your own preparations and changes with your own calendar."

Rufus clenched his jaws. "Oh."

"The date is also closer to the company's anniversary, so it's all the more appropriate," his father added.

Rufus nodded.

"That's all. Go join your peers."

Tifa was already in the middle of a playful banter with Reeve when Rufus arrived at the patio. Their eyes met when she glanced up at him and he quickly looked away as he took his seat while she fell into a sudden silence. One of the butlers was standing behind their table and waiting should they need anything though they both knew he served more than just that— he was his father's eyes and ears.

Reeve rounded to him and reached out a hand. "Rufus, right?"

Rufus took his hand and shook it. "Yeah. And you're Reeve."

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Rufus pulled away, catching Tifa glance at them just where he and Reeve shook hands. He then took the pot of jam from the middle of the table and a slice of toast then placed both on his plate. "What year are you going to be in?"

"Third."

Rufus smirked. "Same."

"Looks like we'll both be taking care of Tifa, yeah?"

Rufus scoffed and took a bite of his toast. Tifa sipped her tea.

"She was just telling me she had been living here since she was eleven. Are you two close? Growing up here together and all."

Rufus glanced in Tifa's direction. Her eyes were still on her plate. "Not quite. We're just acquaintances."

Reeve's face fell. "Oh."

"Do you miss your parents in Midgar?" Tifa suddenly interjected, an effort to change the subject. "Sector Five, right?"

"Yeah. And no, I don't really miss them. I mean—" Reeve shrugged. "—maybe a little, but I know I will see them again soon."

"Where are you staying?"

"I have an Aunt here in Junon. She's got a spare room and agreed to let me stay with her."

"Will your parents come and visit you?"

"Nah, I don't expect them to. They're busy and my mom's pretty old. I can't expect them to travel all this way just to see me."

"Right."

Reeve bit his lower lip and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Are you excited for school?"

Rufus looked up from his plate, but not quite at Tifa.

"Yeah. I am. It was… a little sudden. I didn't expect that either," she said and placed her fork down with a soft _clank_ on her plate. "It's going to be an experience, I just know it."

"Really? How?"

"I never really went to a school as elite as Junon Academy. I don't know what to expect, but I am pretty excited about the classes, the campus, the uniform— everything. And it's going to be the first time I'll meet more people like… well…" She lowered her head. "Rufus."

"It's just as ordinary as any other school," Rufus said sternly as he spread his jam over his toast. "Nothing to be excited about."

"I… Well, if you say so," Tifa whispered.

The silence was awkward after that, and it must have bore on Tifa too heavily that she stood minutes later with an intent to leave. Rufus stood for her, nothing more than a gesture a gentleman should do, and Reeve must have picked that up because he quickly rose to his feet as well.

"Please, don't," Tifa laughed softly and met Rufus' eyes for the second time and so fleetingly. She nodded. "Thanks for the snack. Excuse me."

Rufus and Reeve sat back down the moment Tifa was gone. Rufus made sure that she was out of sight before leaning forward against the table. "What made you dabble on engineering, Reeve?"

Reeve looked up, slightly unsure about his sudden comity. "Oh, uh, my dad has been working for President Shinra's engineering team and I guess I just became interested over time."

"I guess that you are interested in reading some books about them, too?"

"I've read a lot but, I guess they're never enough so, yeah, that'll definitely be great."

"You'll find our library amazing, then."

Reeve chuckled. "I can imagine. You must have all the materials you need for the company."

"And more. Research papers, theses, reports, everything is stored in there. If you have a moment to spare, allow me to bring you there."

"Wow! Thanks!"

And just as he had expected, Reeve was easily marvelled by the endless rows and shelves and books in their basement library. He was particularly fond of the older editions of engineering textbooks, which they had tons of so Rufus allowed him to enjoy his moment before he pounced to the point.

"Reeve," he called over, distracting him from flipping over the pages of a book Rufus personally never cared for. "How capable are you in engineering?"

Reeve blinked and lowered the book. He chuckled sheepishly. "Not really great, though I'm trying to be good at it at least?"

Rufus pulled a book from one of the nearby shelves and examined it under a tight scrutiny. "Right. And you are a recipient of my father's scholarship program."

Reeve was unsure now. "Yeah?"

"You may have impressed my father, but I would need more convincing."

"Okay…?"

Rufus clasped his hands on his back with the book still in his grip as he glanced around the room. "What if I ask you to build me a pair of gloves?"

Reeve narrowed his eyes. "Wouldn't you need a tailor for that?"

Rufus smirked. "Not just any gloves, mind you. A pair that can control lightning."

Reeve paused. "Huh?"

"You aren't deaf. You heard me. Make me a pair of gloves that can contain lightning. And I need them by May three."

Reeve's eyes widened. "Wha— May three?! That's only a few weeks away!"

"Lower your voice," Rufus hissed.

"And by lightning, you mean—"

"Magic. Thunder. That kind of lightning."

"Why?"

Rufus sighed drearily. "If you can't do it, then I simply don't see the point of your scholarship. My father trusts you with it, so you need to deliver."

"Kind of a rushed thing to ask of me."

Rufus grinned lightly when Reeve's voice grew uneasy. "You have everything that you need right here, yes? Money is no object, either. I'll give you time, I think it's only fair." He glanced at his watch. "Excuse me. I still have a few errands to do."

"Wait, can I just come in here, or—"

Rufus waltzed to the door and left without an answer. Reeve let out a chuckle at his impatience as he glanced around the library. "Yep. Sure. Errands. Whatever you say, pal."

* * *

When night fell and his father was asleep, Rufus looked out of his window to her room. The ribbon was hanging and the lights were out, which meant she was already at the rooftop.

He slipped into his night robe and creeped out of his room, tip-toed through the hallway (thank Gaia for the steady and quiet marbled floors), down the stairs, out through the kitchen, and up to their usual rendezvous.

Tifa was pacing back and forth with a worried look on her face and then gasped when he arrived. She ran to him, mindful of the space between them, and held his wrists like she usually did.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly, her forehead puckered with concern and her eyes begging for an answer.

He motioned his head to the direction of Marle's quarters. "I thought I told you not to hang that ribbon anymore."

"I know," she said. "But your dad is around and I wasn't sure if you'd still make it. I just wanted you to know that I'd be here anyway."

Rufus pursed his lips. "Oh."

Her grip tightened. "Talk to me."

He met her eyes again. "It's nothing you should be anxious about."

"Oh no…" she breathed. "Something's up."

Rufus sighed and cast his head down. She knew him too well and his bad habit of keeping things locked up inside of him. There was no escaping her.

"What is it?" she persisted.

"The party was moved to another date," he finally answered and lifted his head. "They moved it to your birthday."

"Oh," Tifa exhaled in relief. "You were a little snappier this afternoon, I thought of the worst. Thank Gaia…"

Rufus frowned. "Like what?"

Tifa shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe like your dad finally caught up to us?"

"And?"

"What if he finds out about this rooftop? You'll get into trouble!"

Rufus smirked. "I'll never let that happen."

Tifa gasped and bucked backward when a glint sparked on her wrist. Rufus realized too late that he unwittingly reached for her arm with his bare hands. She massaged the spot where it burned.

"I'm—"

"No." Tifa cut him. She shook her head and forced a laugh. "Don't be. It's okay."

Rufus shook his head. "No, I'm…" He trailed off and lifted his hand that was still spitting traces of lightning. It was aggressive and he could feel it. It was angry as he was, wanting something that it couldn't have so it wanted to destroy. And all he really ever wanted was to hold Tifa.

She carefully approached him and gently clasped a hand around his. "Hey," she called softly, so he looked at her. "It's okay."

The gesture only made it worse. The lightning was angrier and so was he. He slowly pulled his hand away and shoved his hands into the pockets of his robe.

Tifa pressed her lips in a tight line. "Are you still angry? About the party?"

"I am." He really was. "Aren't you?"

She offered a kind smile. "No. I'm not. I'm actually thankful that it was all you were so mad about."

Rufus scoffed. "You are?"

"Yeah. Listen, I'll be here, as always. And I'll watch you from here. Over there, see?" She pointed at the fenced edge of the rooftop that overlooked the lawn. She nodded encouragingly. "And then it's like we'll still be together, right? So don't worry about it."

Rufus' jaws tightened and he swallowed to push down the pinching pain that rose from his chest. It wouldn't be the same. She didn't deserve that.

"Rufus?"

"But," he muttered. "It's your birthday."

"So? I'll still have more birthdays!" She said cheerily, downplaying it all as if it was nothing. "And we'll have more nights together like this. What is it to miss just one?"

"A lot."

Tifa giggled. "That's not true. One is not a lot. It's not worth getting so angry about and ruining your day. So what if we can't celebrate my birthday? We can celebrate it the next day! Or the week after!"

Rufus chuckled. "You're silly, you know that?"

"Nope." Tifa jutted her chin and tossed her hair around while she turned and strutted away. "Because I'm a _genius_."

Tifa laughed when Rufus did, and Gaia how he wanted to reach out to her waist and tickle her just to hear more. If only she knew how much he enjoyed moments like this, when she was smiling and laughing with nothing to hurt her. And he would always be there, standing beside her to make sure she would always have something to smile about.

He felt himself mellow down when she started talking again, albeit her voice being drowned by the evening wind, the crickets chirping, and the furious beating of his heart. He clenched his fists in his pockets so tightly that his fingers had gone numb when he loosened his hands, pushing the lightning back in and the urge to hold her again.

And he decided then that this just wouldn't do.

* * *

Rufus stormed into the library with a thundering slam of the door that made Reeve jump from his seat. It was only afternoon and he had just started with his first book for the day. He pushed his glasses up and straightened his posture as Rufus darted towards him with a blazing look in his eyes.

"Name your price, Reeve," he said.

Reeve gaped at him with widened eyes. "What? Are you still onto those gloves?"

"What do you think?"

Reeve studied him then crossed his arms. "None. It costs nothing."

Rufus scoffed loudly. "That's stupid. Everything costs something."

"Hm, maybe it's not money this time," Reeve smirked. "There's just something I need to know."

Rufus' frown deepened. "What?"

"Tell me why you want them so much."

Rufus inhaled roughly and pinched his lips with his hand. He turned his back on Reeve, tilted his head up to the ceiling, and then lowered his hand to his side.

"And you better be honest with me," Reeve added as a warning, seeing how the answer seemed to have already cost Rufus. "I want the truth. And I _will_ find out about it one way or another."

Rufus took a deep breath and lowered his head, spent a moment to steady himself before whirling back to Reeve. "It's for Tifa's birthday," he said. "And I want to—"

"AHA!" Reeve yelled in triumph. "I knew you two are closer than you look!"

Rufus raised a warning finger where a small spark escaped. "And you're not to tell my father."

Reeve raised an eyebrow and shrugged, challenging him. "Why?"

Rufus huffed, grinned, and eyed him with disbelief. "Is this still part of the bargain?"

"The gloves are still involved, right? So yeah. It is."

Rufus licked his upper lip, seemingly weighing his options before he moved to _show_ his answer. Rufus jerked his hand to his waist and a white ball of lightning appeared on his palm. Reeve jumped back and yelped in surprise, dropped the book in his hand, then paused when the lightning ball did nothing else. Reeve slowly leaned closer to examine it, eyes glazed with perplexity as it rolled inches above Rufus' palm held by the sparks he was emitting from his fingertips, glowing and rumbling lowly with each jolt.

"How—"

"Call it a curse," Rufus said. "It happened after the Nibelheim incident. You know well as everyone else that I am a survivor of it."

"You survived the fire and came back with this magic?"

"Yes. And don't ask me how. Nobody can really explain it as far as anyone is concerned. This is all we know. There are other kids, too, the others who survived the fire."

"And they came out with elemental magic?"

"Elemental magic, yes."

"No materia?"

"No."

Reeve frowned, shifted on his feet, pursed his lips, and crossed his arms against his chest while he observed the ball of lightning. "And you want the gloves because…"

"To make it easier for me to control it."

Reeve's eyebrow rose. "You already _know_ how to control it as far as I can tell."

Rufus huffed and whisked his hand away, making the lightning disappear. "No, you can't. And I don't."

Reeve eyed him as if he wasn't really buying it. Rufus didn't care. He just wanted those gloves.

"Tifa has the same powers, right?"

Rufus suddenly stiffened.

"She was wearing gloves. And I thought, kinda weird, that she was wearing thick black gloves so early on a warm day. I didn't think much of it until you said something."

Rufus opened his mouth, tried to retort a reply, and then closed it again.

Reeve blinked. "So, is hers lightning too? Why don't you just get those, too?"

Rufus huffed impatiently. "My father doesn't want us as friends. He has other plans for her and wants her to work for me in the future. See, hers is water."

Reeve nodded once with widened eyes. "Ah."

"And obviously he wants to make sure that she won't get in my way."

"Because she's going to be your weakness, thus your enemy."

"Precisely."

"And what about you?"

Rufus shook his head. "She's not my enemy."

"Yep. Figured as much. And now that we have all the information, I'm assuming you want the gloves because you don't want to hurt her."

"Yes."

"And your father wouldn't want that because he wants you to assert your dominance by not restraining your power over her."

"Exactly."

Reeve shook his head and regarded Rufus carefully as his thoughts ran with Rufus' request from the first moment he made it up until this minute. He could sense the rebellious notion and the torment that was driving him. He sighed loudly. "Give me a few days to figure it out.I am only familiar with armors reducing elemental damages, but not exactly controlling the magic itself. That's reversing the concept and it's all gonna be new for me."

"As long as I already have it on May three."

Reeve shrugged, the corners of his lips turned down. "So, why me?"

"Because I know for a fact that you can and will do it for me without saying anything."

Reeve loosened his arms to his side and glared at Rufus. "How can you say that?"

"Because you will find no harm in this and you have the good sense of taking care of your relationship with me seeing that you know you'll be working for me in the future. You want to get to my good side, right? Of course you do. And this will help you get to my _very_ good side."

"By… helping you with your courtship of Tifa?"

Rufus scowled and shoved his hands back into his pockets.

Reeve groaned and rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll do it. And I'll make it to your deadline, I promise."

Rufus grinned. "Good. And while you're at it—" he reached into a pocket and tossed a thick white envelope in front of Reeve. "Buy the best phone in the market."

"Why don't you do it yourself?"

"It's for Tifa," Rufus replied. "Can't let anyone catch me buying a phone when I already have one. You'll have to do it."

"Let me guess, before May three?"

Rufus chuckled. "Huh. Good. You're finally catching my drift."

* * *

The whole Shinra household broke into a busy bustle on her sixteenth birthday. She knew the routine of every staff in the household whenever the President held parties— the chef and his cooks would start the preparations in the morning, the homekeepers would set up the tables, the chairs, and the tents, hired decorators would arrive with lights, sashes, balloons, and fireworks (her favorite part of the parties), the band would be setting up at the gazebo, the drivers would stand waiting at the driveway as the guests valets, and Marle would always be the busiest of them all as the head of the staff.

Tifa was never given a task to help around, though she was always gently reminded with one thing— not to bother the guests. Marle would tell her it would be better to simply stay inside her room at all times and Tifa would almost always retort that "be invisible" made a clearer and more straightforward request. As usual, she would climb to the rooftop and watched the glittering, captivating, almost enchanting details of the party she could only ever wish to experience. It had always been enough for her to remain a spectator, but she would very much like to wear a beautiful dress, taste their food, drink their wine, and dance the night away. That wish was starting to become a gnawing desire the older she got and the more she thought about Rufus being there.

The music began playing when the first guests arrived at around six o'clock in the evening, but she didn't leave her room until eight o'clock when the crowd was thicker and the night was darker. She easily snuck out of the quarters, climbed to the rooftop and was immediately dazzled by the colors, the sparkles, and the music. She smiled to herself as she gazed at the elegance and sophistication that were abundant in the taste, the manners, and the words the guests spoke. The high society was beautiful, Tifa thought, and she could not believe that Rufus thought so lowly of it all that he had to call it "fake."

She spotted him by the buffet table holding a flute of golden champagne in one hand and talking to an older man and a younger woman. Her smile grew wider the longer she stared at him in his crisp black suit, gray inner buttoned shirt, and leather black shoes that made him look slimmer and taller. His usually loose hair was gelled back, a style he always did for special occasions, though it suited him better this time when his sharp features had grown more defined. She knew he had always belonged there in their world, but he always outshone everyone else with his class, sharpness, and beauty.

Rufus whipped his eyes to the rooftop and grinned when he caught her staring. He returned to the couple, nodded at them to excuse himself, then glanced her way again as he began to walk to one of the tables. Tifa smiled back and gave him a small wave which he responded with a brief smile before looking away.

Tifa stayed there for two hours, watching the party unfold and waiting for the fireworks. She gasped and turned around when she suddenly heard footsteps from the staircase and broke into a run with eyes wide and glowing when Rufus appeared. He looked so much better up close and smelled nice, too. His scent whiffed of strong citrus and it was such a new sensation to her that her cheeks immediately flushed.

"Y-you're here!" she squeaked.

Rufus smirked playfully and raised an eyebrow. "Don't you want me here?"

"Of course I do!"

He chuckled. "Happy birthday, Tifa."

Tifa giggled and took his hand in hers. "Thanks for coming. You didn't have to."

"I want to."

Tifa beamed at him. She then caught sight of a small black paper bag in his other hand. "Is that for me?"

"Great job, Tifa. You ruined the surprise."

Tifa stuck a tongue out.

"Let's sit," Rufus suggested, gesturing at the couch. They sat, careful with the distance between them, and when Tifa had shifted herself in a comfortable position, Rufus said, "Close your eyes."

Tifa smiled and did as she was told. Rufus took out the box from the paper bag and when he faced Tifa again, he froze.

The warm yellow lights from the lawn illuminated so brightly that it trickled to the rooftop and speckled onto her soft visage. Her skin was soft and fair, strands of her long hair fell perfectly on her side, and her pink lips drew in a subtle smile and was pulling him in. His fingertips were starting to burn again but he was so stumped that his heart seemed to have stopped beating and his mind had suddenly abandoned him with nothing else but the strong desire to kiss her. And he wondered so fervently what it was like that he was suddenly closing his eyes and leaning closer.

The long pause, however, did not escape Tifa. She wondered why he suddenly fell still and silent so she opened her eyes to check on him. She blinked once, twice, three times when she realized she was looking right back at Rufus with his eyes closed, head tilted slightly to a side, and his lips merely inches away from her. Her heart was beating so furiously as if it was trying to escape her chest, her skin started to heat, her breathing seemed to grow out of control, and her hands were getting wet despite the gloves. Was he trying to…

Tifa quickly shut her eyes again when he flinched. Rufus slowly opened his, glancing at her eyes, her nose, and then her lips. Gaia, if only he could kiss her, if only she would allow it, if the gods would allow it… He pulled back instead, shifted on his seat, and whispered, "Open your eyes."

Tifa was half expecting him to still be leaning close to her, but then he was back where he was, as she had suspected, and was looking down on the space between them. And there it was, the actual surprise— a box of a brand new phone.

Tifa gasped and lifted her hand to her mouth, completely confounded by his surprise.

"It's time to put the red ribbon to rest," Rufus said. "You can send me a message here instead, or talk to me if you want to."

"Oh, Rufus…" Tifa's mouth was still agape as she stared at the present. She looked up at him again, teary eyes glazed with awe and her heart aching to embrace him. So she grabbed his wrists again and squeezed them. She smiled and laughed softly with an urge to thank him even if she knew it wasn't enough.

"That's not all," he said then gently freed himself from her grasp. He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a pair of black gloves. It looked so much like hers, though his were bigger and thinner.

"Is… that… what I think it is?"

"Yep," Rufus slid his hands into them and clamped his fingers to test its fitting. "I asked Reeve to make them for me. Goodness, he almost didn't make it to your birthday."

"Does that matter?"

"Of course," Rufus replied, his eyes still averted from hers. "It means everything."

Tifa lowered her gaze when she could feel the water in her hands. She didn't know what was conjuring it out of her, though she was certainly overwhelmingly confused. The care she had for Rufus as a friend was starting to feel different and his grand gestures didn't help define for her what it really was. She clasped her hands tightly together and then took deep deep breaths. One at a time. One… Two… Three…

"Tifa," Rufus called. When she looked up at him, he was gazing at the direction of the party. The lights were reduced to a softer dim while the band played a slow and delicate melody. Rufus stood and reached out to her. "Will you dance with me?"

Tifa looked at his hand then at him and smiled. "I'd be delighted."

Rufus pulled her to a more open space free of furniture then guided her free hand to his shoulder. He then placed his other hand on her waist, grinning at his new freedom to hold her like that, then gently swayed with her in the music. It was then Tifa had decided how it was all truly different, as she gazed into Rufus' piercing blue eyes and his rare genuine smile. True, it may still have been friendship. But it was beginning to feel _more._


End file.
